DUKE  UNIVERSITY 


LIBRARY 


The  Glenn  Negley  Collection 
of  Utopian  Literature 


EQUALITY 


BY 


EDWARD    BELLAMY 

AUTHOR    OF 
LOOKING    BACKWARD,    DR.    HEIDENHOFF's    PROCESS, 

MISS  ludington's  sister,  etc. 


THIRD  EDITION 


NEW     YORK 
D.     APPLETON    AND     COMPANY 

.1898 


COPTRIGHT,    1897, 

By  EDWARD  BELLAMY. 


All  rights  reserved,  including  those  of  translation 
and  dramatization. 


This  book  is  copyrighted  in  foreign  countries  in 
accordance  with  the  provisions  of  their  laws  and 
of  the  International  Copyright  Law. 


Copyright,  1897,  by 
D,  Appleton  and  Company, 


BH3SSQ 


PREFACE 


Looking  Backward  was  a  small  book,  and  I  was  not 
able  to  get  into  it  all  I  wished  to  say  on  the  subject.  Since 
it  was  published  what  was  left  out  of  it  has  loomed  up  as  so 
much  more  important  than  what  it  contained  that  I  have 
been  constrained  to  write  another  book.  I  have  taken  the 
date  of  Looking:  Backward,  the  year  2000,  as  that  of  Equal- 
ity, and  have  utilized  the  framework  of  the  former  story  as 
a  starting  point  for  this  which  I  now  offer.  In  order  that 
those  who  have  not  read  Looking  Backward  may  be  at  no 
disadvantage,  an  outline  of  the  essential  features  of  that 
story  is  subjoined : 

In  the  year  1887  Julian  West  was  a  rich  young  man  liv- 
ing in  Boston.  He  was  soon  to  be  married  to  a  young  lady 
of  wealthy  family  named  Edith  Bartlett,  and  meanwhile 
lived  alone  with  his  man-servant  Sawyer  in  the  family  man- 
sion. Being  a  sufferer  from  insomnia,  he  had  caused  a 
chamber  to  be  built  of  stone  beneath  the  foundation  of  the 
house,  which  he  used  for  a  sleeping  room.  When  even  the 
silence  and  seclusion  of  this  retreat  failed  to  bring  slumber, 
he  sometimes  called  in  a  professional  mesmerizer  to  put  him 
into  a  hypnotic  sleep,  from  which  Sawyer  knew  how  to 
arouse  him  at  a  fixed  time.  This  habit,  as  well  as  the  exist- 
ence of  the  underground  chamber,  were  secrets  known  only 
to  Sawyer  and  the  hypnotist  who  rendered  his  services.  On 
the  night  of  May  30,  1887,  West  sent  for  the  latter,  and  was 
put  to  sleep  as  usual.  The  hypnotist  had  previously  in- 
formed his  patron  that  he  was  intending  to  leave  the  city 
permanently  the  same  evening,  and  referred  him  to  other 

iii 


iv  EQUALITY. 

practitioners.  That  night  the  house  of  Julian  West  took  fire 
and  was  wholly  destroyed.  Remains  identified  as  those  of 
Sawyer  were  found  and,  though  no  vestige  of  West  appeared, 
it  was  assumed  that  he  of  course  had  also  perished. 

One  hundred  and  thirteen  years  later,  in  September,  A.  D. 
2000,  Dr.  Leete,  a  physician  of  Boston,  on  the  retired  list, 
was  conducting  excavations  in  his  garden  for  the  founda- 
tions of  a  private  laboratory,  when  the  workers  came  on  a 
mass  of  masonry  covered  with  ashes  and  charcoal.  On 
opening  it,  a  vault,  luxuriously  fitted  up  in  the  style  of  a 
nineteenth-century  bedchamber,  was  found,  and  on  the  bed 
the  body  of  a  young  man  looking  as  if  he  had  just  lain 
down  to  sleep.  Although  great  trees  had  been  growing 
above  the  vault,  the  unaccountable  preservation  of  the 
youth's  body  tempted  Dr.  Leete  to  attempt  resuscitation,  and 
to  his  own  astonishment  his  efforts  proved  successful.  The 
sleeper  returned  to  life,  and  after  a  short  time  to  the  full 
vigor  of  youth  which  his  appearance  had  indicated.  His 
shock  on  learning  what  had  befallen  him  was  so  great  as 
to  have  endangered  his  sanity  but  for  the  medical  skill  of 
Dr.  Leete,  and  the  not  less  sympathetic  ministrations  of  the 
other  members  of  the  household,  the  doctor's  wife,  and 
Edith  the  beautiful  daughter.  Presently,  how^ever,  the 
young  man  forgot  to  wonder  at  what  had  happened  to  him- 
self in  his  astonishment  on  learning  of  the  social  trans- 
formation through  which  the  world  had  passed  w^hile  he 
lay  sleeping.  Step  by  step,  almost  as  to  a  child,  his  hosts 
explained  to  him,  who  had  knowm  no  other  way  of  living 
except  the  struggle  for  existence,  what  were  the  simple 
principles  of  national  co-operation  for  the  promotion  of  the 
general  welfare  on  which  the  new  civilization  rested.  He 
learned  that  there  were  no  longer  any  who  were  or  could  be 
richer  or  poorer  than  others,  but  that  all  were  economic 
equals.  He  learned  that  no  one  any  longer  worked  for 
another,  either  by  compulsion  or  for  hire,  but  that  all  alike 
were  in  the  service  of  the  nation  working  for  the  common 
fund,  which  all  equally  shared,  and  that  even  necessary 
personal  attendance,  as  of  the  physician,  was  rendered  as  to 
the  state  like  that  of  the  military  surgeon.  All  these  won- 
ders, it  was  explained,  had  very  simply  come  about  as  the 


PREFACE.  V 

results  of  replacing  private  capitalism  by  public  capitalism, 
and  organizing-  the  macliinery  of  production  and  distri- 
bution, like  the  political  government,  as  business  of  general 
concern  to  be  carried  on  for  the  public  benefit  instead  of 
private  gain. 

But,  though  it  was  not  long  before  the  young  stranger  s 
first  astonishment  at  the  institutions  of  the  new  world  had 
passed  into  enthusiastic  admiration  and  he  was  ready  to  ad- 
mit that  the  race  had  for  the  first  time  learned  how  to  live, 
he  presently  began  to  repine  at  a  fate  which  had  introduced 
him  to  the  new  world,  only  to  leave  him  oppressed  by  a 
sense  of  hopeless  loneliness  which  all  the  kindness  of  his 
new  friends  could  not  relieve,  feeling,  as  he  must,  that 
it  was  dictated  by  pity  only.     Then  it  was  that  he  first 
learned  that  his  experience  had  been  a  yet  more  marvelous 
one  than  he  had  supposed.     Edith  Leete  was  no  other  than 
the  great-gi^anddaughter  of   Edith  Bartlett,  his  betrothed, 
who,  after  long  mourning  her  lost  lover,  had  at  last  allowed 
herself  to  be  consoled.     The  story  of  the  tragical  bereave- 
ment which  had  shadowed   her  early   life  was  a  family 
tradition,  and  among  the  family  heirlooms  were  letters  from 
Julian  West,  together  with  a  photograph  which  represented 
so  handsome  a  youth  that  Edith  was  illogically  inclined 
to  quarrel  with  her  great-grandmother  for  ever  marrying 
anybody  else.     As  for  the  young  man^s  picture,  she  kept 
it  on  her  dressing  table.     Of  course,  it  followed  that  the 
identity  of  the  tenant  of  the  subterranean  chamber  had  been 
fully  known  to  his  rescuers  from  the  moment  of  the  dis- 
covery ;  but  Edith,  for  reasons  of  her  own,  had  insisted  that 
he  should  not  know  who  she  was  till  she  saw  fit  to  tell  him. 
When,  at  the  proper  time,  she  had  seen  fit  to  do  this,  there 
was  no  further  question  of  loneliness  for  the  young  man, 
for  how  could  destiny  more  unmistakably  have  indicated 
that  two  persons  were  meant  for  each  other  ? 

His  cup  of  happiness  now  being  full,  he  had  an  experience 
in  which  it  seemed  to  be  dashed  from  his  lips.  As  he  lay  on 
his  bed  in  Dr.  Leete's  house  he  was  oppressed  by  a  hideous 
nightmare.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  opened  his  eyes  to  find 
himself  on  his  bed  in  the  underground  chamber  where  the 
mesmerizer  had  put  him  to  sleep.     Sawyer  was  just  complet- 


yi  EQUALITY. 

ing-  the  passes  used  to  break  the  hj^pnotic  iiiflueuee.  He 
called  for  the  morning  paper,  and  read  on  the  date  line 
May  31,  1887.  Then  he  knew  that  all  this  wonderful  matter 
about  the  jesiY  2000,  its  hapj)y,  care-free  world  of  brothers 
and  the  fair  girl  he  had  met  there  were  but  fragments  of  a 
dream.  His  brain  in  a  whirl,  he  went  forth  into  the  city. 
He  saw  everything  with  new  eyes,  contrasting  it  with  what 
he  had  seen  in  the  Boston  of  the  year  2000.  The  frenzied 
folly  of  the  competitive  industrial  system,  the  inhuman 
contrasts  of  luxury  and  woe — pride  and  abjectness— the 
boundless  squalor,  wretchedness,  and  madness  of  the  whole 
scheme  of  things  which  met  his  eye  at  every  turn,  out- 
raged his  reason  and  made  his  heart  sick.  He  felt  like  a 
sane  man  shut  up  by  accident  in  a  madhouse.  After  a 
day  of  this  wandering  he  found  himself  at  nightfall  in  a 
company  of  his  former  companions,  who  rallied  him  on  his 
distraught  appearance.  He  told  them  of  his  dream  and 
what  it  had  taught  him  of  the  possibilities  of  a  juster, 
nobler,  wiser  social  system.  He  reasoned  with  them,  show- 
ing how  easy  it  would  be,  laying  aside  the  suicidal  folly  of 
competition,  bj'  means  of  fraternal  co-operation,  to  make  the 
actual  world  as  blessed  as  that  he  had  dreamed  of.  At  first 
they  derided  him,  but,  seeing  his  earnestness,  grew  angry,  and 
denounced  him  as  a  pestilent  fellow,  an  anarchist,  an  enemy 
of  society,  and  drove  him  from  them.  Then  it  was  that, 
in  an  agony  of  weeping,  he  awoke,  this  time  awaking  really, 
not  falsely,  and  found  himself  in  his  bed  in  Dr.  Leete's 
house,  with  the  morning  sun  of  the  twentieth  century  shin- 
ing in  his  eyes.  Looking  from  the  window  of  his  room,  he 
saw  Edith  in  the  garden  gathering  flowers  for  the  breakfast 
table,  and  hastened  to  descend  to  her  and  relate  his  experi- 
ence. At  this  point  we  will  leave  him  to  continue  the  nar- 
rative for  himself. 


CONTENTS 


I. — A   SHARP   CROSS-EXAMINER 

TI. — Why  the  revolution  did  not  come  earlier  . 
III.— I  acquire  a  stake  in  the  country  . 
IV. — A  twentieth-century  bank  parlor  . 

V. — I  experience  a  new  sensation. 
VI. — HoNi  soit  qui  mal  y  pense        .... 

VII. — A   STRING   of    surprises 

VIII. — The  greatest  wonder  yet — fashion  dethroned 
IX. — Something  that  had  not  changed    . 

X. — A  midnight  plunge 

XI. — Life  the  basis  of  the  right  of  property 
XIT. — How  inequality  of  wealth  destroys  liberty 
XIIT. — Private  capital  stolen  from  the  social  fund 
XTV. — We  look  over  my  collection  of  harnesses  . 
XV. — What  we  were  coming  to  but  for  the  revolution 
XVI. — An  excuse  that  condemned 

FROM    mo 


XVIT. — The  revolution  saves  private  property 

NOPOLY 116 

XVIII, — An  echo  of  the  past 121 

XIX. — "Can  a  maid  forget  her  ornaments?"  .        .        .  134 

XX. — What  the  revolution  did  for  women    .        .        .  130 

XXI. — At  the  gymnasium 143 

XXII. — Economic  suicide  of  the  profit  systeji  .        .        .  153 

XXIII. — "The  parable  of  the  water  tank"       .        .        .  195 

XXIV. — I   AM    SHOWN    all   THE    KINGDOMS    OF   THE    EARTH  .  204 

XXV.— The  strikers 206 

XXVI. — Foreign  commerce  under  profits  ;  protection  and 

free  trade,  or  between  the  devil  and  THE 

deep  sea 212 

vii 


viii  EQUALITY. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XX VII. — Hostility  of  a  system  of  vested  interests  to 

IMPROVEMENT .  221 

XXVIII. — How  the  profit  system  nullified  the  benefit 

OF  inventions 230 

XXIX. — I  receive  an  ovation 244 

XXX. — What  universal  culture  means        .        .        .  245 

XXXI. — "Neither  in  this  mountain  nor  at  Jerusalem"  252 

XXXII. — Eritis  sicut  deus 204 

XXXill. — Several  important  matters  overlooked  .        .  270 

XXXIV. — What  started  the  revolution  ....  804 
XXXV. — Why  the  revolution  went  slow  at  first  but 

FAST   AT    LAST 322 

XXXVI. — Theater-going  in  the  twentieth  century        .  347 

XXXVII. — The  transition  period 349 

XXXV  HI.— The  book  of  the  blind 381 


EQUALITY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  SHARP  CROSS-EXAMINER. 

With  many  expressions  of  sympathy  and  interest  Edith 
listened  to  the  story  of  my  dream.  When,  finally,  I  had 
made  an  end,  she  remained  musing. 

'*  What  are  you  thinking  about  ? "  I  said. 

"I  was  thinking,"  she  answered,  "how  it  would  have 
been  if  your  dream  had  been  true." 

"  True ! "  I  exclaimed.     "  How  could  it  have  been  true  ? " 

"  I  mean,"  she  said,  "  if  it  had  all  been  a  dream,  as  you 
supposed  it  was  in  your  nightmare,  and  you  had  never  really 
seen  our  Republic  of  the  Golden  Rule  or  me,  but  had  only 
slept  a  night  and  dreamed  the  whole  thing  about  us.  And 
suppose  you  had  gone  forth  just  as  you  did  in  your  dream, 
and  had  passed  up  and  down  telling  men  of  the  terrible  folly 
and  wickedness  of  their  way  of  life  and  how  much  nobler 
and  happier  a  way  there  was.  Just  think  what  good  you 
might  have  done,  how  you  might  have  helped  people  in 
those  days  when  they  needed  help  so  much.  It  seems  to  me 
you  must  be  almost  sorry  you  came  back  to  us." 

"  You  look  as  if  you  were  almost  sorry  yourself,"  I  said, 
for  her  wistful  expression  seemed  susceptible  of  that  inter- 
pretation. 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  answered,  smiling.  "  It  was  only  on  your 
own  account.  As  for  me,  I  have  very  good  reasons  for 
being  glad  that  you  came  back." 

"  I  should  say  so,  indeed.  Have  you  reflected  that  if  I 
had  dreamed  it  all  you  would  have  had  no  existence  save 

1 


2  EQUALITY. 

as  a  figment  in  the  brain  of  a  sleeping  man  a  hundred  years 
ago  ?  " 

"  I  had  not  thought  of  that  part  of  it,"  she  said  smihng 
and  still  half  serious  ;  "  yet  if  I  could  have  been  more  use- 
ful to  humanity  as  a  fiction  than  as  a  reality,  I  ought  not  to 
have  minded  the — the  inconvenience." 

But  I  replied  that  I  greatly  feared  no  amount  of  op- 
portunity to  help  mankind  in  general  would  have  recon- 
ciled me  to  life  anywhere  or  under  any  conditions  after 
leaving  her  behind  in  a  "dream — a  confession  of  shameless 
selfishness  which  she  was  pleased  to  pass  over  without  special 
rebuke,  in  consideration,  no  doubt,  of  my  unfortunate  bring- 
ing up. 

"Besides,"  I  resumed,  being  willing  a  little  further  to 
vindicate  myself,  "it  would  not  have  done  any  good.  I 
have  just  told  you  how  in  my  nightmare  last  night,  when  I 
tried  to  tell  my  contemporaries  and  even  my  best  friends 
about  the  nobler  way  men  might  live  together,  they  derided 
me  as  a  fool  and  madman.  That  is  exactly  what  they 
would  have  done  in  reality  had  the  dream  been  true  and  I 
had  gone  about  preaching  as  in  the  case  you  supposed." 

"  Perhaps  a  few  might  at  first  have  acted  as  you  dreamed 
they  did,"  she  reiDlied.  "  Perhaps  they  would  not  at  once 
have  liked  the  idea  of  economic  equality,  fearing  that  it 
might  mean  a  leveling  down  for  them,  and  not  under- 
standing that  it  would  presently  mean  a  leveling  up  of  all 
together  to  a  vastly  higher  plane  of  life  and  happiness,  of 
material  welfare  and  moral  dignity  than  the  most  fortunate 
had  ever  enjoyed.  But  even  if  the  rich  had  at  first  mis- 
taken you  for  an  enemy  to  their  class,  the  poor,  the  great 
masses  of  the  poor,  the  real  nation,  they  surely  from  the 
first  would  have  listened  as  for  their  lives,  for  to  them  your 
story  would  have  meant  glad  tidings  of  great  joy." 

"  I  do  not  wonder  that  you  think  so,"  I  answered,  "  but, 
though  I  am  still  learning  the  A  B  C  of  this  new  world,  I 
knew  my  contemporaries,  and  I  know  that  it  would  not 
have  been  as  you  fancy.  The  poor  would  have  listened  no 
better  than  the  rich,  for,  though  poor  and  rich  in  my  day 
were  at  bitter  odds  in  everything  else,  they  were  agreed  in 
believing  that  there  must  always  be  rich  and  poor,  and  that 


A  SHARP   CROSS-EXAMINER.  3 

a  condition  of  material  equality  was  impossible.  It  used  to 
be  commonly  said,  and  it  often  seemed  true,  that  the  social 
reformer  who  tried  to  better  the  condition  of  the  people 
found  a  more  discouraging  obstacle  in  the  hopelessness  of 
the  masses  he  would  raise  than  in  the  active  resistance  of 
the  few,  whose  superiority  was  threatened.  And  indeed, 
Edith,  to  be  fair  to  my  own  class,  I  am  bound  to  say  that 
with  the  best  of  the  rich  it  was  often  as  much  this  same 
hopelessness  as  deliberate  selfishness  that  made  them  what 
we  used  to  call  conservative.  So  you  see,  it  would  have 
done  no  good  even  if  I  had  gone  to  preaching  as  you  fan- 
cied. The  poor  would  have  regarded  my  talk  about  the 
possibility  of  an  equality  of  wealth  as  a  fairy  tale,  not  worth 
a  laboring  man's  time  to  listen  to.  Of  the  rich,  the  baser 
sort  would  have  mocked  and  the  better  sort  would  have 
sighed,  but  none  would  have  given  ear  seriously." 

But  Edith  smiled  serenely. 

"  It  seems  very  audacious  for  me  to  try  to  correct  your 
impressions  of  your  own  contemporaries  and  of  what  they 
might  be  expected  to  think  and  do,  but  you  see  the  peculiar 
circumstances  give  me  a  rather  unfair  advantage.  Your 
knowledge  of  your  times  necessarily  stops  short  with  1887, 
when  you  became  oblivious  of  the  course  of  events.  I,  on  the 
other  hand,  having  gone  to  school  in  the  twentieth  century, 
and  been  obliged,  much  against  my  will,  to  study  nineteenth- 
century  history,  naturally  know  what  happened  after  the 
date  at  which  your  knowledge  ceased.  I  know,  impossible 
as  it  may  seem  to  you,  that  you  had  scarcely  fallen  into 
that  long  sleep  before  the  American  people  began  to  be 
deeply  and  widely  stirred  with  aspirations  for  an  equal 
order  such  as  we  enjoy,  and  that  very  soon  the  political 
movement  arose  which,  after  various  mutations,  resulted 
early  in  the  twentieth  century  in  overthrowing  the  old  sys- 
tem and  setting  up  the  present  one." 

This  was  indeed  interesting  information  to  me,  but  when 
I  began  to  question  Edith  further,  she  sighed  and  shook 
her  head. 

"  Having  tried  to  show  my  superior  knowledge,  I  must 
now  confess  my  ignorance.  All  I  know  is  the  bare  fact 
that  the  revolutionary  movement  began,  as  I  said,  very  soon 


4  EQUALITY. 

after  you  fell  asleep.  Father  must  tell  you  the  i^st.  I 
might  as  well  admit  while  I  am  about  it,  for  you  would 
soon  find  it  out,  that  I  know  almost  nothing  either  as  to  the 
Revolution  or  nineteenth-century  mattei^  generally.  You 
have  no  idea  how  hard  I  have  been  trying  to  post  myself  on 
the  subject  so  as  to  be  able  to  talk  intelligently  with  you, 
but  I  fear  it  is  of  no  use.  I  could  not  understand  it  in 
school  and  can  not  seem  to  understand  it  any  better  now. 
More  than  ever  this  morning  I  am  sure  that  I  never  shall. 
Since  you  have  been  telling  me  how  the  old  world  appeared 
to  you  in  that  dream,  your  talk  has  brought  those  days  so 
terribly  near  that  I  can  almost  see  them,  and  yet  I  can  not 
say  that  they  seem  a  bit  more  intelligible  than  before." 

"  Things  were  bad  enough  and  black  enough  certainly," 
I  said  ;  "  but  I  don't  see  what  there  was  particularly  unintel- 
ligible about  them.     What  is  the  difficulty  ? " 

"  The  main  difficulty  comes  from  the  complete  lack  of 
agreement  between  the  pretensions  of  your  contemporaries 
about  the  way  their  society  was  organized  and  the  actual 
facts  as  given  in  the  histories." 

"  For  example  ? "  I  queried. 

"  I  don't  suppose  there  is  much  use  in  trying  to  explain 
my  trouble,"  she  said.  "You  will  only  think  me  stupid 
for  my  pains,  but  111  try  to  make  you  see  what  I  mean. 
You  ought  to  be  able  to  clear  up  the  matter  if  anybody 
can.  You  have  just  been  telling  me  about  the  shocking- 
ly unequal  conditions  of  the  people,  the  contrasts  of  waste 
and  want,  the  pride  and  power  of  the  rich,  the  abjectness 
and  servitude  of  the  poor,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  dreadful 
story." 

"Yes." 

"  It  appears  that  these  contrasts  were  almost  as  great  as 
at  any  previous  period  of  history." 

"It  is  doubtful,"  I  replied,  " if  there  was  ever  a  greater 
disparity  between  the  conditions  of  difPerent  classes  than 
you  would  find  in  a  half  hour's  walk  in  Boston,  New  York, 
Chicago,  or  any  other  great  city  of  America  in  the  last 
quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Edith,  "  it  appears  from  all  the  books 
that  meanwhile  the  Americans'  great  boast  was  that  they 


A  SHARP  CROSS-EXAMINER.  5 

differed  from  all  other  and  former  nations  in  that  they  were 
free  and  equal.  One  is  constantly  coming-  upon  this  phrase 
in  the  literature  of  the  day.  Now,  you  have  made  it  clear 
that  they  were  neither  free  nor  equal  in  any  ordinary  sense 
of  the  word,  but  were  divided  as  mankind  had  always  been 
before  into  rich  and  poor,  masters  and  servants.  Won't  you 
please  tell  me,  then,  what  they  meant  by  calling  themselves 
free  and  equal  ? " 

"  It  was  meant,  I  suppose,  that  they  were  all  equal  before 
the  law." 

''  That  means  in  the  courts.  And  were  the  rich  and  poor 
equal  in  the  courts  ?  Did  they  receive  the  same  treatment  ? " 
''  I  am  bound  to  say,"  I  replied,  "  that  they  were  nowhere 
else  more  unequal.  The  law  applied  in  terms  to  all  alike, 
but  not  in  fact.  There  was  more  difference  in  the  position 
of  the  rich  and  the  poor  man  before  the  law  than  in  any 
other  respect.  The  rich  wxre  practically  above  the  law,  the 
poor  under  its  wheels." 

"  In  what  respect,  then,  were  the  rich  and  poor  equal  ?  " 
"  They  were  said  to  be  equal  in  opportunities." 
"  Opportunities  for  what  ?  " 

"  For  bettering  themselves,  for  getting  rich,  for  getting 
ahead  of  others  in  the  struggle  for  wealth." 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  only  meant,  if  it  were  true,  not 
that  all  were  equal,  but  that  all  had  an  equal  chance  to 
make  themselves  unequal.  But  was  it  true  that  all  had 
equal  opportunities  for  getting  rich  and  bettering  them- 
selves ? " 

"  It  may  have  been  so  to  some  extent  at  one  time  when 
the  country  was  new,"  I  replied,  "  but  it  was  no  more  so  in 
my  day.  Capital  had  practically  monopolized  all  economic 
opportunities  by  that  time ;  there  was  no  opening  in  busi- 
ness  enterprise  for  those  without  large  capital  save  by  some 
extraordinary  fortune." 

"But  surely,"  said  Edith,  "  there  must  have  been,  in  order 
to  give  at  least  a  color  to  all  this  boasting  about  equality, 
some  one  respect  in  which  the  people  were  really  equal  ?"' 

''  Yes.  there  was.  They  were  political  equals.  They  all 
had  one  vote  alike,  and  the  majority  was  the  supreme  law- 
giver." 


6  EQUALITY. 

"  So  the  books  say,  but  that  only  makes  the  actual  con- 
dition of  things  more  absolutely  unaccountable." 

''Why  so?" 

"  Why,  because  if  these  people  all  had  an  equal  voice  in 
the  government — these  toiling,  starving,  freezing,  wretched 
masses  of  the  poor — why  did  they  not  without  a  moment's 
delay  put  an  end  to  the  inequalities  from  w^hich  they  suf- 
fered ? " 

"  Very  likely,"  she  added,  as  I  did  not  at  once  reply,  "I 
am  only  showing  how  stupid  I  am  by  saying  this.  Doubt- 
less I  am  overlooking  some  important  fact,  but  did  you  not 
say  that  all  the  people,  at  least  all  the  men,  had  a  voice  in 
the  government  ? " 

"  Certainly  ;  by  the  latter  part  of  the  nineteenth  century 
manhood  suffrage  had  become  practically  universal  in 
America." 

"  That  is  to  say,  the  people  through  their  chosen  agents 
made  all  the  laws.     Is  that  what  you  mean  ? " 

"  Certainly." 

"But  I  remember  you  had  Constitutions  of  the  nation 
and  of  the  States.  Perhaps  they  prevented  the  people  from 
doing  quite  what  they  wished." 

"  No ;  the  Constitutions  were  only  a  little  more  funda- 
mental sort  of  laws.  The  majority  made  and  altered  them 
at  will.  The  people  were  the  sole  and  supreme  final  power, 
and  their  w411  was  absolute." 

"  If,  then,  the  majority  did  not  like  any  existing  arrange- 
ment, or  think  it  to  their  advantage,  they  could  change  it  as 
radically  as  they  wished  ?  " 

"  Certainly ;  the  popular  majority  could  do  anything  if 
it  was  large  and  determined  enough." 

"  And  the  majority,  I  understand,  were  the  poor,  not  the 
rich— the  ones  who  had  the  wrong  side  of  the  inequalities 
that  prevailed  ? " 

"  Emphatically  so  ;  the  rich  were  but  a  handful  compar- 
atively." 

"  Then  there  was  nothing  whatever  to  prevent  the  peo- 
ple at  any  time,  if  they  just  willed  it,  from  making  an  end 
of  their  sufferings  and  organizing  a  system  like  oure  which 
would  guarantee  their  equality  and  prosperity  ? " 


A  SHARP  CROSS-EXAMINER.  7 

"  Nothing  whatever." 

"  Then  once  more  I  ask  you  to  kindly  tell  me  why,  in 
the  name  of  common  sense,  they  didn't  do  it  at  once  and  bo 
happy  instead  of  making  a  spectacle  of  themselves  so  woeful 
that  even  a  hundred  years  after  it  makes  us  cry  ? " 

"  Because,"  I  replied,  "  they  were  taught  and  believed 
that  the  regulation  of  industry  and  commerce  and  the  pro- 
duction and  distribution  of  wealth  was  something  wholly 
outside  of  the  proper  province  of  government." 

"  But,  dear  me,  Julian,  life  itself  and  everything  that 
meanwhile  makes  life  worth  living,  from  the  satisfaction  of 
the  most  primary  physical  needs  to  the  gratification  of  the 
most  refined  tastes,  all  that  belongs  to  the  development  of 
mind  as  well  as  body,  depend  first,  last,  and  always  on  the 
manner  in  which  the  production  and  distribution  of  wealth 
is  regulated.  Surely  that  must  have  been  as  true  in  your 
day  as  ours." 

"  Of  course." 

''  And  yet  you  tell  me,  Julian,  that  the  people,  after  hav- 
ing abolished  the  rule  of  kings  and  taken  the  supreme  power 
of  regulating  their  affairs  into  their  own  hands,  deliberately 
consented  to  exclude  from  their  jurisdiction  the  control  of 
the  most  important,  and  indeed  the  only  really  important, 
class  of  their  interests." 

"Do  not  the  histories  say  so  ? " 

"  They  do  say  so,  and  that  is  precisely  why  I  could  never 
believe  them.  The  thiug  seemed  so  incomprehensible  I 
thought  there  must  be  some  way  of  explaining  it.  But  tell 
me,  Julian,  seeing  the  people  did  not  think  that  they  could 
trust  themselves  to  regulate  their  own  industry  and  the  dis- 
tribution of  the  product,  to  whom  did  they  leave  the  respon- 
sibility ? " 

"  To  the  capitalists." 

"  And  did  the  people  elect  the  capitalists  ? " 

"  Nobody  elected  them." 

"  By  whom,  then,  were  they  appointed  ? " 

"  Nobody  appointed  them." 

"  What  a  singular  system !  Well,  if  nobody  elected  or 
appointed  them,  yet  surely  they  must  have  been  accountable 
to  somebody  for  the  manner  in  which  they  exercised  powers 


8  EQUALITY. 

on  which  the  welfare  and  very  existence  of  everybody  de- 
pended." 

"  On  the  contrary,  they  were  accountable  to  nobody  and 
nothing  but  their  own  consciences." 

''  Their  consciences !  Ah,  I  see !  You  mean  that  they 
were  so  benevolent,  so  unselfish,  so  devoted  to  the  public 
good,  that  people  tolerated  their  usurpation  out  of  gratitude. 
The  people  nowadays  would  not  endure  the  irresponsible 
rule  even  of  demigods,  but  probably  it  was  different  in 
your  day." 

*'  As  an  ex-capitalist  myself,  I  should  be  i^leased  to  con- 
firm your  surmise,  but  nothing  could  really  be  further  from 
the  fact.  As  to  any  benevolent  interest  in  the  conduct  of 
industry  and  commerce,  the  capitalists  expressly  disavowed 
it.  Their  only  object  was  to  secure  the  greatest  possible  gain 
for  themselves  without  any  regard  whatever  to  the  welfare 
of  the  public." 

"  Dear  me !  Dear  me  1  Why  you  make  out  these  capi- 
talists to  have  been  even  worse  than  the  kings,  for  the 
kings  at  least  professed  to  govern  for  the  welfare  of  their 
people,  as  fathers  acting  for  children,  and  the  good  ones 
did  try  to.  But  the  capitalists,  you  say,  did  not  even  pre- 
tend to  feel  any  responsibility  for  the  welfare  of  their 
subjects  ? " 

'•  None  whatever." 

"And,  if  I  understand,"  pursued  Edith,  "  this  government 
of  the  capitalists  was  not  only  without  moral  sanction  of  any 
sort  or  plea  of  benevolent  intentions,  but  was  practically  an 
economic  failure — that  is,  it  did  not  secure  the  prosperity  of 
the  people." 

"  What  I  saw  in  my  dream  last  night,"  I  replied,  "  and 
have  tried  to  tell  you  this  morning,  gives  but  a  faint 
suggestion  of  the  misery  of  the  world  under  capitalist 
rule."     • 

Edith  meditated  in  silence  for  some  moments.  Finally 
she  said :  '*  Your  contemporaries  were  not  madmen  nor 
fools ;  surely  there  is  something  you  have  not  told  me ; 
there  must  be  some  explanation  or  at  least  color  of  excuse 
why  the  people  not  only  abdicated  the  power  of  control  in  g 
their  most  vital  and  important  interests,  but  turned  them 


A  SHARP  CROSS-EXAMINER.  9 

over  to  a  class  which  did  not  even  pretend  any  interest  in 
their  welfare,  and  whose  government  completely  failed  to 
secure  it." 

''  Oh,  yes,"  I  said,  "  there  was  an  explanation,  and  a  very 
fine-sounding  one.  It  was  in  the  name  of  individual  liberty, 
industrial  freedom,  and  individual  initiative  that  the  eco- 
nomic government  of  the  country  was  surrendered  to  the 
capitalists." 

''  Do  you  mean  that  a  form  of  government  which  seems 
to  have  been  the  most  irresponsible  and  despotic  possible 
was  defended  in  the  name  of  liberty  ? " 

"  Certainly  ;  the  liberty  of  economic  initiative  by  the  in- 
dividual." 

"  But  did  you  not  just  tell  me  that  economic  initiative 
and  business  opportunity  in  your  day  were  practically  mo- 
nopolized by  the  capitalists  themselves  ? " 

"  Certainly.  It  was  admitted  that  there  was  no  opening 
for  any  but  capitalists  in  business,  and  it  was  rapidly  becom- 
ing so  that  only  the  greatest  of  the  capitalists  themselves 
had  any  power  of  initiative." 

"  And  yet  you  say  that  the  reason  given  for  abandoning 
industry  to  capitalist  government  was  the  promotion  of  in- 
dustrial freedom  and  individual  initiative  among  the  people 
at  large." 

"  Certainly.  The  people  were  taught  that  they  would  in- 
dividually enjoy  greater  liberty  and  freedom  of  action  in 
industrial  matters  under  the  dominion  of  the  capitalists 
than  if  they  collectively  conducted  the  industrial  system 
for  their  own  benefit ;  that  the  capitalists  would,  moreover, 
look  out  for  their  welfare  more  wisely  and  kindly  than  they 
could  possibly  do  it  themselves,  so  that  they  would  be  able 
to  provide  for  themselves  more  bountifully  out  of  such  por- 
tion of  their  product  as  the  capitalists  might  be  disposed  to 
give  them  than  they  jDossibly  could  do  if  they  became  their 
own  employers  and  divided  the  whole  product  among  them- 
selves." 

"  But  that  was  mere  mockery ;  it  was  adding  insult  to 
injury." 

"  It  sounds  so,  doesn't  it  ?  But  I  assure  you  it  was  con- 
sidered the  soundest  sort  of  political  economy  in  my  time. 


10  EQUALITY. 

Those  who  questioned  it  were  set  down  as  dangerous  vision- 
aries." 

"  But  I  suppose  the  people's  government,  the  government 
they  voted  for,  must  have  done  something.  There  must 
have  been  some  odds  and  ends  of  things  which  the  capital- 
ists left  the  political  government  to  attend  to." 

"  Oh,  yes,  indeed.  It  had  its  hands  full  keeping  the  peace 
among  the  people.  That  was  the  main,  part  of  the  business 
of  political  governments  in  my  day." 

"Why  did  the  peace  require  such  a  great  amount  of 
keeping  ?    Why  didn't  it  keep  itself,  as  it  does  now  ? " 

"  On  account  of  the  inequality  of  conditions  which  pre- 
vailed. The  strife  for  wealth  and  desperation  of  want  kept 
in  quenchless  blaze  a  hell  of  greed  and  envy,  fear,  lust,  hate, 
revenge,  and  every  foul  passion  of  the  pit.  To  keep  this 
general  frenzy  in  some  restraint,  so  that  the  entire  social 
system  should  not  resolve  itself  into  a  general  massacre,  re- 
quired an  army  of  soldiers,  police,  judges,  and  jailers,  and 
endless  law-making  to  settle  the  quarrels.  Add  to  these 
elements  of  discord  a  horde  of  outcasts  degraded  and  des- 
perate, made  enemies  of  society  by  their  sufferings  and 
requiring  to  be  kept  in  check,  and  you  will  readily  ad- 
mit there  was  enough  for  the  people's  government  to 
do." 

"So  far  as  I  can  see,"  said  Edith,  "the  main  business  of 
the  people's  government  was  to  struggle  with  the  social 
chaos  which  resulted  from  its  failure  to  take  hold  of  the 
economic  system  and  regulate  it  on  a  basis  of  justice." 

"  That  is  exactly  so.  You  could  not  state  the  whole  case 
more  adequately  if  you  wrote  a  book." 

"  Beyond  protecting  the  capitalist  system  from  its  own 
effects,  did  the  political  government  do  absolutely  noth- 
ing?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  appointed  postmasters  and  tidewaiters,  main- 
tained an  army  and  navy,  and  picked  quarrels  with  foreign 
countries." 

"  I  should  say  that  the  right  of  a  citizen  to  have  a  voice 
in  a  government  limited  to  the  range  of  functions  you  have 
mentioned  would  scarcely  have  seemed  to  him  of  much 
value." 


A   SHARP  CROSS-EXAMINER.  H 

"  I  believe  the  average  price  of  votes  in  close  elections  in 
America  in  my  time  was  about  two  dollars." 

"  Dear  me,  so  much  as  that ! "  said  Edith.  "  I  don't  know 
exactly  what  the  value  of  money  was  in  your  day,  but  I 
should  say  the  price  was  rather  extortionate." 

"  I  think  you  are  right,"  I  answered.  "  I  used  to  give  in 
to  the  talk  about  the  pricelessness  of  the  right  of  suffrage, 
and  the  denunciation  of  those  whom  any  stress  of  poverty 
could  induce  to  sell  it  for  money,  but  from  the  XDoint  of 
view  to  which  you  have  brought  me  this  morning  I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  the  fellows  who  sold  their  votes 
had  a  far  clearer  idea  of  the  sham  of  our  so-called  pop- 
ular government,  as  limited  to  the  class  of  functions  I 
have  described,  than  any  of  the  rest  of  us  did,  and  that  if 
they  were  wrong  it  was,  as  you  suggest,  in  asking  too  high 
a  price." 

"  But  who  paid  for  the  votes  ?" 

"  You  are  a  merciless  cross-examiner,"  I  said.  "  The 
classes  which  had  an  interest  in  controling  the  government 
— that  is,  the  capitalists  and  the  office-seekers — did  the  buy- 
ing. The  capitalists  advanced  the  money  necessary  to  pro- 
cure the  election  of  the  office-seekers  on  the  understanding 
that  when  elected  the  latter  should  do  what  the  capitalists 
wanted.  But  I  ought  not  to  give  you  the  impression  that 
the  bulk  of  the  votes  were  bought  outright.  That  would 
have  been  too  open  a  confession  of  the  sham  of  popular 
government  as  well  as  too  expensive.  The  money  con- 
tributed by  the  capitalists  to  procure  the  election  of  the 
office-seekers  was  mainly  expended  to  influence  the  people 
by  indirect  means.  Immense  sums  under  the  name  of  cam- 
paign funds  were  raised  for  this  purpose  and  used  in  in- 
numerable devices,  such  as  fireworks,  oratory,  processions, 
brass  bands,  barbecues,  and  all  sorts  of  devices,  the  object  of 
which  was  to  galvanize  the  people  to  a  sufficient  degree  of 
interest  in  the  election  to  go  through  the  motion  of  voting. 
Nobody  who  has  not  actually  witnessed  a  nineteenth-cen- 
tury American  election  could  even  begin  to  imagine  the 
grotesqueness  of  the  spectacle." 

"  It  seems,  then,"  said  Edith,  ''  that  the  capitalists  not  only 
carried  on  the  economic  government  as  their  special  prov- 


12  EQUALITY. 

ince,  but  also  practically  managed  the  machinery  of  the 
political  government  as  well." 

"  Oh,  j^es,  the  capitalists  could  not  have  got  along  at  all 
without  control  of  the  political  government.  Congress,  the 
Legislatures,  and  the  city  councils  were  quite  necessary  as 
instruments  for  putting  through  their  schemes.  Moreover, 
in  order  to  protect  themselves  and  their  property  against 
popular  outbreaks,  it  was  highly  needful  that  they  should 
have  the  police,  the  courts,  and  the  soldiers  devoted  to  their 
interests,  and  the  President,  Governors,  and  mayors  at  their 
beck." 

"  But  I  thought  the  President,  the  Grovernors,  and  Legisla- 
tures represented  the  people  who  voted  for  them." 

"  Bless  your  heart !  no,  why  should  they  ?  It  was  to  the 
capitalists  and  not  to  the  people  that  they  owed  the  oppor- 
tunity of  officeholding.  The  people  who  voted  had  little  choice 
for  whom  they  should  vote.  That  question  was  determined 
by  the  political  party  organizations,  which  were  beggars  to 
the  capitalists  for  pecuniary  support.  No  man  who  was 
opposed  to  capitalist  interests  was  permitted  the  opportunity 
as  a  candidate  to  appeal  to  the  people.  For  a  public  official 
to  support  the  peoj)le's  interest  as  against  that  of  the  capi- 
talists would  be  a  sure  way  of  sacrificing  his  career.  You 
must  remember,  if  you  would  understand  how  absolutely 
the  capitalists  controled  the  Government,  that  a  President, 
Governor,  or  mayor,  or  member  of  the  municipal,  State,  or 
national  council,  was  only  temporarily  a  servant  of  the  peo- 
ple or  dependent  on  their  favour.  His  public  position  he 
held  only  from  election  to  election,  and  rarely  long.  His 
permanent,  lifelong,  and  all-controling  interest,  like  that  of 
us  all,  was  his  livelihood,  and  that  was  dependent,  not  on 
the  applause  of  the  people,  but  the  favor  and  patronage  of 
capital,  and  this  he  could  not  afford  to  imperil  in  the  pur- 
suit of  the  bubbles  of  popularity.  These  circumstances, 
even  if  there  had  been  no  instances  of  direct  bribery,  suffi- 
ciently explained  why  our  politicians  and  officeholders 
with  few  exceptions  were  vassals  and  tools  of  the  capitalists. 
The  lawyers,  who,  on  account  of  the  complexities  of  our 
system,  were  almost  the  only  class  competent  for  public 
business,  were  especially  and  directly  dependent  upon  the 


A  SHARP  CROSS-EXAMINER.  13 

patronage  of  the  great  capitalistic  interests  for  their  liv- 
ing." 

"  But  why  did  not  the  people  elect  officials  and  repre- 
sentatives of  their  own  class,  who  would  look  out  for  the 
interests  of  the  masses  ? " 

"There  was  no  assurance  that  they  would  be  more  faith- 
ful. Their  very  poverty  would  make  them  the  more  liable 
to  money  temptation ;  and  the  poor,  you  must  remember, 
although  so  much  more  pitiable,  were  not  morally  any  bet- 
ter than  the  rich.  Then,  too — and  that  was  the  most  impor- 
tant reason  why  the  masses  of  the  people,  who  were  poor, 
did  not  send  men  of  their  class  to  represent  them — pov- 
erty as  a  rule  implied  ignorance,  and  therefore  practical 
inability,  even  where  the  intention  was  good.  As  soon  as 
the  poor  man  developed  intelligence  he  had  every  temp- 
tation to  desert  his  class  and  seek  the  patronage  of  capi- 
tal." 

Edith  remained  silent  and  thoughtful  for  some  mo- 
ments. 

"  Really,"  she  said,  finally,  "  it  seems  that  the  reason  I 
could  not  understand  the  so-called  popular  system  of  govern- 
ment in  your  day  is  that  I  was  trying  to  find  out  what  part 
the  people  had  in  it,  and  it  appears  that  they  had  no  part  at 
all." 

"  You  are  getting  on  famously,"  I  exclaimed.  "  Undoubt- 
edly the  confusion  of  terms  in  our  political  system  is  rather 
calculated  to  puzzle  one  at  first,  but  if  you  only  grasp  firmly 
the  vital  point  that  the  rule  of  the  rich,  the  supremacy  of 
capital  and  its  interests,  as  against  those  of  the  people  at 
large,  was  the  central  principle  of  our  system,  to  which 
every  other  interest  was  made  subservient,  you  will  have 
the  key  that  clears  up  every  mystery." 


14:  EQUALITY. 

GHAPTEE  II. 

WHY  THE   REVOLUTION   DID  NOT   COME   EARLIER. 

Absorbed  in  our  talk,  we  had  not  heard  the  steps  of  Dr. 
Leete  as  he  approached. 

"  I  have  been  watching-  you  for  ten  minutes  from  the 
house,"  he  said,  "  until,  in  fact,  I  could  no  longer  resist  the 
desire  to  know  what  you  find  so  interesting." 

"Your  daughter,"  said  I,  "has  been  proving  herself  a 
mistress  of  the  Socratic  method.  Under  a  plausible  pretext 
of  gross  ignorance,  she  has  been  asking  me  a  series  of  easy 
questions,  with  the  result  that  I  see  as  I  never  imagined  it 
before  the  colossal  sham  of  our  pretended  popular  govern- 
ment in  America.  As  one  of  the  rich  I  knew,  of  course, 
that  we  had  a  great  deal  of  power  in  the  state,  but  I  did  not 
before  realize  how  absolutely  the  people  were  without  influ- 
ence in  their  own  government." 

"  Aha ! "  exclaimed  the  doctor  in  great  glee,  "  so  my 
daughter  gets  up  early  in  the  morning  with  the  design  of 
supplanting  her  father  in  his  position  of  historical  instruct- 
or?" 

Edith  had  risen  from  the  garden  bench  on  which  we  had 
been  seated  and  was  arranging  her  flowers  to  take  into  the 
house.  She  shook  her  head  rather  gravely  in  reply  to  her 
father's  challenge. 

"  You  need  not  be  at  all  apprehensive,"  she  said ;  "  Julian 
has  quite  cured  me  this  morning  of  atiy  wish  I  might  have 
had  to  inquire  further  into  the  condition  of  our  ancestors. 
I  haye  always  been  dreadfully  sorry  for  the  poor  people  of 
that  day  on  account  of  the  misery  they  endured  from  pov- 
erty and  the  oppression  of  the  rich.  Henceforth,  however, 
I  wash  my  hands  of  them  and  shall  reserve  my  sympathy 
for  more  deserving  objects." 

"  Dear  me  ! "  said  the  doctor,  "  what  has  so  suddenly  dried 
up  the  fountains  of  your  pity  ?  AVhat  has  Julian  been  tell- 
ing you  ? " 

"  Nothing,  really,  I  suppose,  that  I  had  not  read  before 
and  ought  to  have  known,  but  the  story  always  seemed  so 
unreasonable  and  incredible  that  I  never  quite  believed  it 


WHY  THE  REVOLUTION  DID  NOT  COME  EARLIER.   15 

until  now.  I  thought  there  must  be  some  modifying  facts 
not  set  down  in  the  histories." 

"  But  what  is  this  that  he  has  been  telling  you  ? " 

"  It  seems,"  said  Edith,  "  that  these  very  people,  these 
very  masses  of  the  poor,  had  all  the  time  the  supreme  con- 
trol of  the  Government  and  were  able,  if  determined  and 
united,  to  put  an  end  at  any  moment  to  all  the  inequalities 
and  oppressions  of  which  they  complained  and  to  equalize 
things  as  we  have  done.  Not  only  did  they  not  do  this,  but 
they  gave  as  a  reason  for  enduring  their  bondage  that  their 
liberties  would  be  endangered  unless  they  had  irresponsible 
masters  to  manage  their  interests,  and  that  to  take  charge 
of  their  own  affairs  would  imperil  their  freedom.  I  feel 
that  I  have  been  cheated  out  of  all  the  tears  I  have  shed 
over  the  sufferings  of  such  people.  Those  who  tamely  en- 
dure wrongs  which  they  have  the  power  to  end  deserve  not 
compassion  but  contempt.  I  have  felt  a  little  badly  that 
Julian  should  have  been  one  of  the  oppressor  class,  one  of 
the  rich.  Now  that  I  really  understand  the  matter,  I  am 
glad.  I  fear  that,  had  he  been  one  of  the  poor,  one  of  the 
mass  of  real  masters,  who  with  supreme  power  in  their  hands 
consented  to  be  bondsmen,  I  should  have  despised  him." 

Having  thus  served  formal  notice  on  my  contemporaries 
that  they  must  expect  no  more  sympathy  from  her,  Edith 
went  into  the  house,  leaving  me  with  a  vivid  impression 
that  if  the  men  of  the  twentieth  century  should  prove  in- 
capable of  preserving  their  liberties,  the  women  might  be 
trusted  to  do  so. 

"  Really,  doctor,"  I  said,  "  you  ought  to  be  greatly  obliged 
to  your  daughter.  She  has  saved  you  lots  of  time  and 
effort." 

"  How  so,  precisely  ? " 

"  By  rendering  it  unnecessary  for  you  to  trouble  your- 
self to  explain  to  me  any  further  how  and  why  you  came 
to  set  up  your  nationalized  industrial  system  and  your 
economic  equality.  If  you  have  ever  seen  a  desert  or  sea 
mirage,  you  remember  that,  while  the  picture  in  the  sky  is 
very  clear  and  distinct  in  itself,  its  unreality  is  betrayed  by 
a  lack  of  detail,  a  sort  of  blur,  where  it  blends  with  the  fore- 
^'ound  on  which  you  are  standing.     Do  you  know  that  this 


16  EQUALITY. 

new  social  order  of  which  I  have  so  strangely  become  a 
witness  has  hitherto  had  something  of  this  mirage  effect  ? 
In  itself  it  is  a  scheme  precise,  orderly,  and  very  reasonable, 
but  I  could  see  no  way  by  which  it  could  have  naturally 
grown  out  of  the  utterly  different  conditions  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  I  could  only  imagine  that  this  world  trans- 
formation must  have  been  the  result  of  new  ideas  and  forces 
that  had  come  into  action  since  my  day.  I  had  a  volume  of 
questions  all  ready  to  ask  you  on  the  subject,  but  now  we 
shall  be  able  to  use  the  time  in  talking  of  other  things,  for 
Edith  has  shown  rhe  in  ten  minutes'  time  that  the  only  won- 
derful thing  about  your  organization  of  the  industrial  system 
as  public  business  is  not  that  it  has  taken  place,  but  that  it 
waited  so  long  before  taking  place,  that  a  nation  of  rational 
beings  consented  to  remain  economic  serfs  of  irresponsible 
masters  for  more  than  a  century  after  coming  into  posses- 
sion of  absolute  power  to  change  at  pleasure  all  social  insti- 
tutions which  inconvenienced  them," 

"  Really,"  said  the  doctor,  "  Edith  has  shown  herself  a 
very  efficient  teacher,  if  an  involuntary  one.  She  has  suc- 
ceeded at  one  stroke  in  giving  you  the  modern  point  of  view 
as  to  your  period.  As  we  look  at  it,  the  immortal  preamble 
of  the  American  Declaration  of  Independence,  away  back  in 
1776,  logically  contained  the  entire  statement  of  the  doctrine 
of  universal  economic  equality  guaranteed  by  the  nation  col- 
lectively to  its  members  individually.  You  remember  how 
the  words  run : 

" '  We  hold  these  truths  to  be  self-evident ;  that  all  men  are 
created  equal,  with  certain  inalienable  rights ;  that  among 
these  are  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness ;  that  to 
secure  these  rights  governments  are  instituted  among  men, 
deriving  their  just  powers  from  the  consent  of  the  governed  ; 
that  whenever  any  form  of  government  becomes  destructive 
of  these  rights  it  is  the  right  of  the  people  to  alter  or  to  abol- 
ish it  and  institute  a  new  government,  laying  its  foundations 
on  such  principles  and  organizing  its  powers  in  such  form 
as  may  seem  most  likely  to  effect  their  safety  and  happiness.' 

"  Is  it  possible,  Julian,  to  imagine  any  governmental  sys- 
tem less  adequate  than  ours  which  could  possibly  realize  this 
great  ideal  of  what  a  true  people's  government  should  be  ? 


WHY  THE  REVOLUTION  DID  NOT  COME  EARLIER.    17 

The  corner  stone  of  our  state  is  economic  equality,  and  is 
not  that  the  obvious,  necessary,  and  only  adequate  pledge  of 
these  three  birthrights— life,  liberty,  and  happiness  ?  What 
is  life  without  its  material  basis,  and  what  is  an  equal  right 
to  life  but  a  right  to  an  equal  material  basis  for  it  ?  What  is 
liberty  ?  How  can  men  be  free  who  must  ask  the  right  to 
labor  and  to  live  from  their  fellow-men  and  seek  their  bread 
from  the  hands  of  others  ?  How  else  can  any  government 
guarantee  liberty  to  men  save  by  providing  them  a  means 
of  labor  and  of  life  coupled  with  independence ;  and  how 
could  that  be  done  unless  the  government  conducted  the 
economic  system  upon  which  employment  and  maintenance 
depend  ?  Finally,  what  is  implied  in  the  equal  right  of  all 
to  the  pursuit  of  happiness  ?  What  form  of  happiness,  so 
far  as  it  depends  at  all  on  material  facts,  is  not  bound  up 
with  economic  conditions ;  and  how  shall  an  equal  oppor- 
tunity for  the  pursuit  of  happiness  be  guaranteed  to  all  save 
by  a  guarantee  of  economic  equality  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  it  is  indeed  all  there,  but  why  were  we  so 
long  in  seeing  it  ? " 

"  Let  us  make  ourselves  comfortable  on  this  bench,"  said 
the  doctor,  "  and  I  will  tell  you  what  is  the  modern  answer 
to  the  very  interesting  question  you  raise.  At  first  glance, 
certainly  the  delay  of  the  world  in  general,  and  especially 
of  the  American  people,  to  realize  that  democracy  logically 
meant  the  substitution  of  popular  government  for  the  rule 
of  the  rich  in  regulating  the  production  and  distribution  of 
wealth  seems  incomprehensible,  not  only  because  it  was  so 
plain  an  inference  from  the  idea  of  popular  government,  but 
also  because  it  was  one  which  the  masses  of  the  people  were 
so  directly  interested  in  carrying  out.  Edith's  conclusion 
that  people  who  were  not  capable  of  so  simple  a  process  of 
reasoning  as  that  did  not  deserve  much  sympathy  for  the 
afflictions  they  might  so  easily  have  remedied,  is  a  very  natu- 
ral first  impression. 

"  On  reflection,  however,  I  think  we  shall  conclude  that 
the  time  taken  by  the  world  in  general  and  the  Americans 
in  particular  in  finding  out  the  full  meaning  of  democracy 
as  an  economic  as  well  as  a  political  proposition  was  not 
greater  than  might  have  been  expected,  considering  the  vast- 


18  EQUALITY. 

ness  of  tlie  conclusions  involved.  It  is  the  democratic  idea 
that  all  human  beings  are  peers  in  rights  and  dignity,  and 
that  the  sole  just  excuse  and  end  of  human  governments  is, 
therefore,  the  maintenance  and  furtherance  of  the  common 
welfare  on  equal  terms.  This  idea  was  the  greatest  social 
conception  that  the  human  mind  had  up  to  that  time  ever 
formed.  It  contained,  when  first  conceived,  the  promise  and 
potency  of  a  complete  transformation  of  all  then  existing 
social  institutions,  one  and  all  of  which  had  hitherto  been 
based  and  formed  on  the  principle  of  personal  and  class 
privilege  and  authority  and  the  domination  and  selfish  use 
of  the  many  by  the  few.  But  it  was  simply  inconsistent 
with  the  limitations  of  the  human  intellect  that  the  implica- 
tions of  an  idea  so  prodigious  should  at  once  have  been 
taken  in.  The  idea  must  absolutely  have  time  to  grow. 
The  entire  present  order  of  economic  democracy  and  equal- 
ity was  indeed  logically  bound  up  in  the  first  full  statement 
of  the  democratic  idea,  but  only  as  the  full-growm  tree  is  in 
the  seed :  in  the  one  case,  as  in  the  other,  time  w^as  an  essen- 
tial element  in  the  evolution  of  the  result. 

"  We  divide  the  history  of  the  evolution  of  the  demo- 
cratic idea  into  two  broadly  contrasted  phases.  The  first  of 
these  we  call  the  phase  of  negative  democracy.  To  under- 
stand it  we  must  consider  how  the  democratic  idea  originated. 
Ideas  are  born  of  previous  ideas  and  are  long  in  outgrowing 
the  characteristics  and  limitations  impressed  on  them  by  the 
circumstances  under  which  they  came  into  existence.  The 
idea  of  popular  government,  in  the  case  of  America  as  in 
previous  republican  experiments  in  general,  was  a  protest 
against  royal  government  and  its  abuses.  Nothing  is  more 
certain  than  that  the  signers  of  the  immortal  Declaration 
had  no  idea  that  democracy  necessarily  meant  anything 
more  than  a  device  for  getting  along  without  kings.  They 
conceived  of  it  as  a  change  in  the  forms  of  government  only, 
and  not  at  all  in  the  principles  and  purposes  of  government. 

"  They  were  not,  indeed,  wholly  without  misgivings  lest 
it  might  some  time  occur  to  the  sovereign  people  that,  being 
sovereign,  it  would  be  a  good  idea  to  use  their  sovereignty 
to  improve  their  own  condition.  In  fact,  they  seem  to  have 
given  some  serious  thought  to  that  possibility,  but  so  little 


WHY  THE  REVOLUTION  DID  NOT  COME  EARLIER.    19 

were  they  yet  able  to  appreciate  the  logic  and  force  of  the 
democratic  idea  that  they  believed  it  possible  by  ingenious 
clauses  in  paper  Constitutions  to  prevent  the  people  from 
using  their  power  to  help  themselves  even  if  they  should 
wish  to. 

"  This  first  phase  of  the  evolution  of  democracy,  during 
which  it  was  conceived  of  solely  as  a  substitute  for  royalty, 
includes  all  the  so-called  republican  experiments  up  to  the 
beginning  of  the  twentieth  century,  of  which,  of  course,  the 
American  Eepublic  was  the  most  important.  During  this 
period  the  democratic  idea  remained  a  mere  protest  against 
a  previous  form  of  government,  absolutely  without  any  new 
positive  or  vital  principle  of  its  own.  Although  the  people 
had  deposed  the  king  as  driver  of  the  social  chariot,  and 
taken  the  reins  into  their  own  hands,  they  did  not  think  as 
yet  of  anything  but  keeping  the  vehicle  in  the  old  ruts  and 
naturally  the  passengers  scarcely  noticed  the  change. 

"  The  second  phase  in  the  evolution  of  the  democratic 
idea  began  with  the  awakening  of  the  people  to  the  percep- 
tion that  the  deposing  of  kings,  instead  of  being  the  main 
end  and  mission  of  democracy,  was  merely  preliminary  to 
its  real  programme,  which  was  the  use  of  the  collective  social 
machinery  for  the  indefinite  promotion  of  the  welfare  of  the 
people  at  large. 

"It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  the  people  began  to  think 
of  applying  their  political  power  to  the  improvement  of 
their  material  condition  in  Europe  earlier  than  in  America, 
although  democratic  forms  had  found  much  less  acceptance 
there.  This  was,  of  course,  on  account  of  the  perennial 
economic  distress  of  the  masses  in  the  old  countries,  which 
prompted  them  to  think  first  about  the  bearing  any  new 
idea  might  have  on  the  question  of  livelihood.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  general  prosperity  of  the  masses  in  America  and 
the  comparative  ease  of  making  a  living  up  to  the  beginning 
of  the  last  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century  account  for  the 
fact  that  it  was  not  till  then  that  the  American  people  began 
to  think  seriously  of  improving  their  economic  condition  by 
collective  action. 

"During  the  negative  phase  of  democracy  it  had  been 
considered  as  differing  from  monarchy  only  as  two  machines 


20  EQUALITY. 

might  difPer,  the  general  use  and  purpose  of  which  were 
the  same.  With  the  evolution  of  the  democratic  idea  into 
the  second  or  positive  phase,  it  was  recognized  that  the 
transfer  of  the  supreme  power  from  king  and  nobles  to 
people  meant  not  merely  a  change  in  the  forms  of  govern- 
ment, but  a  fundamental  revolution  in  the  whole  idea  of 
government,  its  motives,  purposes,  and  functions — a  revolu- 
tion equivalent  to  a  reversal  of  polarity  of  the  entire  social 
system,  carrying,  so  to  speak,  the  entire  compass  card  with 
it,  and  making  north  south,  and  east  west.  Then  was  seen 
what  seems  so  plain  to  us  that  it  is  hard  to  understand  why 
it  was  not  always  seen,  that  instead  of  its  being  projDer  for 
the  sovereign  people  to  confine  themselves  to  the  functions 
which  the  kings  and  classes  had  discharged  when  they 
were  in  power,  the  presumption  was,  on  the  contrary,  since 
the  interest  of  kings  and  classes  had  always  been  exactly 
opposed  to  those  of  the  people,  that  whatever  the  previous 
governments  had  done,  the  people  as  rulers  ought  not  to  do, 
and  whatever  the  previous  governments  had  not  done,  it 
would  be  presumably  for  the  interest  of  the  people  to  do ; 
and  that  the  main  use  and  function  of  popular  government 
was  properly  one  which  no  previous  government  had  ever 
paid  any  attention  to,  namely,  the  use  of  the  power  of  the 
social  organization  to  raise  the  material  and  moral  welfare 
of  the  whole  body  of  the  sovereign  people  to  the  highest 
possible  point  at  which  the  same  degree  of  welfare  could  be 
secured  to  all — that  is  to  say,  an  equal  level.  The  democ- 
racy of  the  second  or  positive  phase  triumphed  in  the  gi'eat 
Revolution,  and  has  since  been  the  only  form  of  govern- 
ment known  in  the  world." 

"Which  amounts  to  saying,"  I  observed,  "that  there 
never  was  a  democratic  government  properly  so  called  be- 
fore the  twentieth  century." 

"Just  so,"  assented  the  doctor.  "The  so-called  republics 
of  the  first  phase  we  class  as  pseudo-republics  or  negative 
democracies.  They  were  not,  of  course,  in  any  sense,  truly 
popular  governments  at  all,  but  merely  masks  for  plutocracy, 
under  which  the  rich  were  the  real  though  irresponsible 
rulers!  You  will  readily  see  that  they  could  have  been 
nothing  else.     The  masses  from  the  beginning  of  the  world 


WHY  THE  REVOLUTION  DID  NOT  COME  EARLIER.    21 

had  been  the  subjects  and  servants  of  tlie  rich,  but  the  kings 
had  been  above  the  rich,  and  constituted  a  check  on  their 
dominion.  The  overthrow  of  the  kings  left  no  check  at  all 
on  the  power  of  the  rich,  which  became  supreme.  The  peo- 
ple, indeed,  nominally  were  sovereigns  ;  but  as  these  sover- 
eigns were  individually  and  as  a  class  the  economic  serfs  of 
the  rich,  and  lived  at  their  mercy,  the  so-called  popular 
government  became  the  mere  stalking-horse  of  the  capi- 
talists. 

''  Regarded  as  necessary  steps  in  the  evolution  of  society 
from  pure  monarchy  to  pure  democracy,  these  republics  of 
the  negative  phase  mark  a  stage  of  jirogress ;  but  if  regarded 
as  finalities  they  w^ere  a  type  far  less  admirable  on  the 
whole  than  decent  monarchies.  In  respect  especially  to 
their  susceptibility  to  corruption  and  plutocratic  subversion 
they  were  the  worst  kind  of  government  possible.  The 
nineteenth  century,  during  w^iich  this  crop  of  pseudo-democ- 
racies ripened  for  the  sickle  of  the  great  Eevolution,  seems 
to  the  modern  view  nothing  but  a  dreary  interregnum  of 
nondescript,  faineant  government  intervening  between  the 
decadence  of  virile  monarchy  in  the  eighteenth  century 
and  the  rise  of  positive  democracy  in  the  twentieth.  The 
period  may  be  compared  to  that  of  the  minority  of  a  king, 
during  which  the  royal  power  is  abused  by  wicked  stewards. 
The  people  had  been  proclaimed  as  sovereign,  but  they  had 
not  yet  assumed  the  sceptre." 

"  And  yet,"  said  I,  "  during  the  latter  part  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  when,  as  you  say,  the  world  had  not  yet 
seen  a  single  specimen  of  popular  government,  our  wise 
men  were  telling  us  that  the  democratic  system  had  been 
fully  tested  and  w^as  ready  to  be  judged  on  its  results.  Not 
a  few  of  them,  indeed,  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  the  demo- 
cratic experiment  had  proved  a  failure  when,  in  point  of 
fact,  it  seems  that  no  experiment  in  democracy,  properly 
understood,  had  as  yet  ever  been  so  much  as  attempted." 

The  doctor  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  It  is  a  very  sympathetic  task,"  he  said,  "  to  explain  the 
slo^vness  of  the  masses  in  feeling  their  way  to  a  compre- 
hension of  all  that  the  democratic  idea  meant  for  them, 
but  it  is  one  equally  difficult  and  thankless  to  account  for 
3 


22  EQUALITY. 

the  blank  failure  of  the  philosophers,  historians,  and  states- 
men of  your  day  to  arrive  at  an  intelligent  estimate  of  the 
logical  content  of  democracy  and  to  forecast  its  outcome. 
Surely  the  very  smallness  of  the  practical  results  thus  far 
achieved  by  the  democratic  movement  as  compared  with 
the  magnitude  of  its  proposition  and  the  forces  behind  it ' 
ought  to  have  suggested  to  them  that  its  evolution  was  yet 
but  in  the  first  stage.  How  could  intelligent  men  delude 
themselves  with  the  notion  that  the  most  portentous  and 
revolutionary  idea  of  all  time  had  exhausted  its  influence 
and  fulfilled  its  mission  in  changing  the  title  of  the  execu- 
tive of  a  nation  from  king  to  President,  and  the  name  of  the 
national  Legislature  from  Parliament  to  Congress  ?  If  your 
pedagogues,  college  professors  and  presidents,  and  others 
who  were  responsible  for  your  education,  had  been  worth 
their  salt,  you  would  have  found  nothing  in  the  present 
order  of  economic  equality  that  would  in  the  least  have 
surprised  you.  You  would  have  said  at  once  that  it  was  just 
what  you  had  been  taught  must  necessarily  be  the  next 
phase  in  the  inevitable  evolution  of  the  democratic  idea." 

Edith  beckoned  from  the  door  and  we  rose  from  our  seat. 

"  The  revolutionary  party  in  the  great  Revolution,"  said 
the  doctor,  as  we  sauntered  toward  the  house,  "  carried  on 
the  work  of  agitation  and  propaganda  under  various  names 
more  or  less  gi'otesque  and  ill-fitting  as  political  party  names 
w^ere  apt  to  be,  but  the  one  word  democracy,  with  its  vari- 
ous equivalents  and  derivatives,  more  accurately  and  com- 
pletely expressed,  explained,  and  justified  their  method, 
reason,  and  purpose  than  a  library  of  books  could  do.  The 
American  people  fancied  that  they  had  set  up  a  popular 
government  when  they  separated  from  England,  but  they 
were  deluded.  In  conquering  the  political  power  formerly 
exercised  by  the  king,  the  people  had  but  taken  the  out- 
works of  the  fortress  of  tyranny.  The  economic  system 
which  was  the  citadel  and  coDimanded  every  part  of  the 
social  structure  remained  in  possession  of  private  and  irre- 
sponsible rulers,  and  so  long  as  it  was  so  held,  the  pos- 
session of  the  outworks  was  of  no  use  to  the  people,  and 
only  retained  by  the  sufferance  of  the  garrison  of  the  cita- 
del.    The  Revolution  came  when  the  people  saw  that  they 


I  ACQUIRE  A  STAKE  IN  THE  COUNTRY.  23 

must  either  take  the  citadel  or  evacuate  the  outworks. 
They  must  either  comi^lete  the  work  of  establishing  popu- 
lar government  which  had  been  barely  begun  by  their 
fathers,  or  abandon  all  that  their  fathers  had  accomplished." 


CHAPTER  III. 

I  ACQUIRE   A  STAKE   IN  THE   COUNTRY. 

On  going  into  breakfast  the  ladies  met  us  with  a  highly 
interesting  piece  of  intelligence  which  they  had  found  in 
the  morning's  new^s.  It  was,  in  fact,  nothing  less  than  an 
announcement  of  action  taken  by  the  United  States  Con- 
gress in  relation  to  myself.  A  resolution  had,  it  appeared, 
been  unanimously  passed  which,  after  reciting  the  facts 
of  my  extraordinary  return  to  life,  proceeded  to  clear  up 
any  conceivable  question  that  might  arise  as  to  my  legal 
status  by  declaring  me  an  American  citizen  in  full  standing 
and  entitled  to  all  a  citizen's  rights  and  immunities,  but  at 
the  same  time  a  guest  of  the  nation,  and  as  such  free  of  the 
duties  and  services  incumbent  upon  citizens  in  general  ex- 
cept as  I  might  choose  to  assume  them. 

Secluded  as  I  had  been  hitherto  in  the  Leete  household, 
this  was  almost  the  first  intimation  I  had  received  of  the 
great  and  general  interest  of  the  public  in  my  case.  That 
interest,  I  was  now  informed,  had  passed  beyond  my  person- 
ality and  was  already  producing  a  general  revival  of  the 
study  of  nineteenth-century  literature  and  politics,  and  es- 
pecially of  the  history  and  philosophy  of  the  transition 
period,  when  the  old  order  passed  into  the  new. 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  the  doctor,  "  the  nation  has  only  dis- 
charged a  debt  of  gratitude  in  making  you  its  guest,  for  you 
have  already  done  more  for  our  educational  interests  by 
promoting  historical  study  than  a  regiment  of  instructors 
could  achieve  in  a  lifetime." 

Recurring  to  the  topic  of  the  congressional  resolution, 
the  doctor  said  that,  in  his  opinion,  it  was  superfluous,  for 
though  I  had  certainly  slept  on  my  rights  as  a  citizen  rather 


24  EQUALITY. 

an  extraordinary  length  of  time,  there  was  no  ground  on 
which  I  could  be  argued  to  have  forfeited  any  of  them. 
However  that  might  be,  seeing  the  resolution  left  no  doubt 
as  to  my  status,  he  suggested  that  the  first  thing  we  did 
after  breakfast  should  be  to  go  down  to  the  National  Bank 
and  open  my  citizen's  account. 

"  Of  course,*'  I  said,  as  we  left  the  house,  "  I  am  glad  to 
be  relieved  of  the  necessity  of  being  a  pensioner  on  you  any 
longer,  but  I  confess  I  feel  a  little  cheap  about  accepting  as 
a  gift  this  generous  provision  of  the  nation." 

"  My  dear  Julian,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  it  is  sometimes  a 
little  difficult  for  me  to  quite  get  your  point  of  view  of  our 
institutions." 

"  I  should  think  it  ought  to  be  easy  enough  in  this  case. 
I  feel  as  if  I  were  an  object  of  public  charity." 

"  Ah ! "  said  the  doctor,  "  you  feel  that  the  nation  has 
done  you  a  favor,  laid  you  under  an  obligation.  You  must 
excuse  my  obtuseness,  but  the  fact  is  we  look  at  this  matter 
of  the  economic  provision  for  citizens  from  an  entirely  dif- 
ferent standx)oint.  It  seems  to  us  that  in  claiming  and  ac- 
cepting your  citizen's  maintenance  you  perform  a  civic 
duty,  whereby  you  put  the  nation — that  is,  the  general  body 
of  your  fellow-citizens— under  rather  more  obligation  than 
you  incur." 

I  turned  to  see  if  the  doctor  were  not  jesting,  but  he  was 
evidently  quite  serious. 

"  I  ought  by  this  time  to  be  used  to  finding  that  every- 
thing goes  by  contraries  in  these  days,"  I  said,  "  but  really, 
by  what  inversion  of  common  sense,  as  it  was  understood  in 
the  nineteenth  century,  do  you  make  out  that  by  accepting 
a  pecuniary  provision  fi\)m  the  nation  I  oblige  it  more  than 
it  obliges  me  ? " 

''  I  think  it  will  be  easy  to  make  you  see  that,"  replied 
the  doctor,  ''  without  requiring  you  to  do  any  violence  to 
the  methods  of  reasoning  to  which  your  contemporaries 
were  accustomed.  You  used  to  have,  I  believe,  a  system  of 
gratuitous  public  education  maintained  by  the  state." 

"  Yes." 

"  What  was  the  idea  of  it  ? " 

"  That  a  citizen  was  not  a  safe  voter  without  education." 


1   ACQUIBK  A  STAKE  IN  THE  COUNTRY.  25 

"  Precisely  so.    The  state  therefore  at  great  expense  pro- 

r  f  ™t  ,lS  p«™<.n,  b«t  1.  „™  am  more  tor  ll,« 

!:S  i  r«t.Cl.  *,„n  .—a  «c*  »■    B» 

2:sr:;ir«;rr,rs^X7rpK-r 
ill  ."•  1"  '•>•  ■»"«•  "■"•  •■** "°"  •* 

fldvantao-e  you  derive  by  doing  so. 

'S7you  know,"  I  said,  "that  this  idea  of  yours,  that 
every  one  who  votes  should  have  an  economic  «take  m  the 
country,  is  one  which  our  rankest  Tones  were  very   ond  o 
tnSsttn^  on,  but  the  practical  conclusion  they  drew  from  it 
wa    dirmetkcally  opposed  to  that  which  you  ^-w  ?    They 
would  have  agreed  with  you  on  the  ---  ^^^^  P~ 
power  and  economic  stake  in  the  country  should  go  togethei, 
buUhe  practical  application  they  made  of  it  was  negative  n- 
stead  of  positive.    You  argue  that  because  an  economic  m- 
lrest^n?he  country  should  go  with  the  suffrage,  all  who 
hive    he  suffrage  should  have  that   interest   guaranteed 
thJm     They  argued,  on  the  contrary,  that  from  all  who 
td  not  the  economic  stake  the  suffrage  should  be  taken 
away.    There  were  not  a  few  of  my  fnendswho  ^aintained 
tlTJsome  such  limitation  of  the  suffrage  was  needed  to  save 
the  democratic  experiment  from  failure." 

'That  is  to  say,"  observed  the  doctor,  "it  was  proposed 
to  save  the  democratic  experiment  by  abandoning  it.  It 
was  an  ingenious  thought,  but  it  so  happened  that  democ- 
Ty  was  not  an  experiment  which  could  be  abandoned,  but 


26  EQUALITY. 

an  evolution  which  mnst  be  fulfilled.  In  what  a  striking 
manner  does  that  talk  of  your  contemporaries  about  limit- 
ing the  suffrage  to  correspond  with  the  economic  position  of 
citizens  illustrate  the  failure  of  even  the  most  intelligent 
classes  in  your  time  to  grasp  the  full  significance  of  the 
democratic  faith  which  they  professed !  The  primal  prin- 
ciple of  democracy  is  the  worth  and  dignity  of  the  individ- 
ual. That  dignity,  consisting  in  the  quality  of  human  nature, 
is  essentially  the  same  in  all  individuals,  and  therefore 
equality  is  the  vital  principle  of  democracy.  To  this  intrin- 
sic and  equal  dignity  of  the  individual  all  material  condi- 
tions must  be  made  subservient,  and  personal  ax^cidents  and 
attributes  subordinated.  The  raising  up  of  the  human  being 
without  respect  of  persons  is  the  constant  and  only  rational 
motive  of  the  democratic  policy.  Contrast  with  this  con- 
ception that  precious  notion  of  your  contemporaries  as  to 
restricting  suffrage.  Recognizing  the  material  disparities  in 
the  circumstances  of  individuals,  they  proposed  to  conform 
the  rights  and  dignities  of  the  individual  to  his  material 
circumstances  instead  of  conforming  the  material  circum- 
stances to  the  essential  and  equal  dignity  of  the  man." 

"In  short,"  said  I,  ''while  under  our  system  we  con- 
formed men  to  things,  you  think  it  more  reasonable  to  con- 
form things  to  men  ?  " 

"  That  is,  indeed,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  the  vital  differ- 
ence between  the  old  and  the  new  orders." 

We  walked  in  silence  for  some  moments.  Presently  the 
doctor  said :  "  I  was  trying  to  recall  an  expression  you  just 
used  which  suggested  a  wide  difference  between  the  sense 
in  which  the  same  phrase  was  understood  in  your  day  and 
now  is.  I  was  saying  that  we  thought  everybody  who 
voted  ought  to  have  a  property  stake  in  the  country,  and 
you  observed  that  some  people  had  the  same  idea  in  your 
time,  but  according  to  our  view  of  what  a  stake  in  the 
country  is  no  one  had  it  or  could  have  it  under  your  eco- 
nomic system." 

"  Why  not  ? "  I  demanded.  "  Did  not  men  who  owned 
property  in  a  country — a  millionaire,  for  instance,  like  my- 
self— have  a  stake  in  it  ? " 

"  In  the  sense  that  his  property  was  geographically  lo- 


I  ACQUIRE  A  STAKE  IN  THE  COUNTRY.  27 

cated  ill  the  country  it  might  be  perhaps  called  a  stake  with- 
in the  country  but  not  a  stake  in  the  country.  It  was  the 
exclusive  ownership  of  a  piece  of  the  country  or  a  portion 
of  the  wealth  in  the  country,  and  all  it  prompted  the  owner 
to  was  devotion  to  and  care  for  that  specific  portion  without 
regard  to  the  rest.  Such  a  separate  stake  or  the  ambition  to 
obtain  it,  far  from  making  its  owner  or  seeker  a  citizen  de- 
voted to  the  common  weal,  was  quite  as  likely  to  make  him 
a  dangerous  one,  for  his  selfish  interest  was  to  aggrandize 
his  separate  stake  at  the  expense  of  his  fellow-citizens  and  of 
the  public  interest.  Your  millionaires — with  no  personal  re- 
flection upon  yourself,  of  course — appear  to  have  been  the 
most  dangerous  class  of  citizens  you  had,  and  that  is  just 
what  might  be  expected  from  their  having  what  you  called 
but  what  we  should  not  call  a  stake  in  the  country.  Wealth 
owned  in  that  way  could  only  be  a  divisive  and  antisocial 
influence. 

"  What  we  mean  by  a  stake  in  the  country  is  something 
which  nobody  could  possibly  have  until  economic  solidarity 
had  rejilaced  the  private  ownership  of  capital.  Every  one, 
of  course,  has  his  own  house  and  piece  of  land  if  he  or  she 
desires  them,  and  always  his  or  her  own  income  to  use  at 
pleasure ;  but  these  are  allotments  for  use  only,  and,  being 
always  equal,  can  furnish  no  ground  for  dissension.  The 
capital  of  the  nation,  the  source  of  all  this  consumption,  is 
indivisibly  held  by  all  in  common,  and  it  is  impossible 
that  there  should  be  any  dispute  on  selfish  grounds  as  to 
the  administration  of  this  common  interest  on  which  all 
private  interests  depend,  whatever  differences  of  judgment 
there  may  be.  The  citizen's  share  in  this  common  fund  is  a 
sort  of  stake  in  the  country  that  makes  it  impossible  to  hurt 
another's  interest  without  hurting  one's  own,  or  to  help  one's 
own  interest  without  promoting  equally  all  other  interests. 
As  to  its  economic  bearings  it  may  be  said  that  it  makes  the 
Golden  Eule  an  automatic  principle  of  government.  What 
we  v\"ould  do  for  ourselves  we  must  of  necessity  do  also  for 
others.  Until  economic  solidarity  made  it  possible  to  carry 
out  in  this  sense  the  idea  that  every  citizen  ought  to  have  a 
stake  in  the  country,  the  democratic  system  never  had  a 
chance  to  develop  its  genius." 


28  EQUALITY. 

"It  seems,"  I  said,  "that  your  foundation  principle  of 
economic  equality  which  I  supposed  was  mainly  suggested 
and  intended  in  the  interest  of  the  material  well-being  of  the 
people,  is  quite  as  much  a  principle  of  political  policy  for 
safeguarding  the  stability  and  wise  ordering  of  govern- 
ment." 

"  Most  assui'edly,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  Our  economic 
system  is  a  measure  of  statesmanship  quite  as  much  as  of 
humanity.  You  see,  the  first  condition  of  efficiency  ob 
stability  in  any  government  is  that  the  governing  power 
should  have  a  direct,  constant,  and  supreme  interest  in  the 
general  welfare — that  is,  in  the  prosperity  of  the  whole 
state  as  distinguished  from  any  part  of  it.  It  had  been  the 
strong  point  of  monarchy  that  the  king,  for  selfish  reasons 
as  proprietor  of  the  country,  felt  this  interest.  The  auto- 
cratic form  of  government,  solely  on  that  account,  had 
always  a  certain  rough  sort  of  efficiency.  It  had  been,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  fatal  weakness  of  democracy,  during  its 
negative  phase  j)revious  to  the  great  Revolution,  that  the 
people,  who  were  the  rulers,  had  individually  only  an  in- 
direct and  sentimental  interest  in  the  state  as  a  whole,  or  its 
machinery — their  real,  main,  constant,  and  direct  interest 
being  concentrated  upon  their  personal  fortunes,  their  pri- 
vate stakes,  distinct  from  and  adverse  to  the  general  stake. 
In  moments  of  enthusiasm  they  might  rally  to  the  support 
of  the  commonwealth,  but  for  the  most  part  that  had  no 
custodian,  but  was  at  the  mercy  of  designing  men  and  fac- 
tions who  sought  to  plunder  the  commonwealth  and  use 
the  machinery  of  government  for  personal  or  class  ends. 
This  was  the  structural  weakness  of  democracies,  by  the 
eff'ect  of  which,  after  passing  their  first  youth,  they  became 
invariably,  as  the  inequality  of  wealth  developed,  the  most 
corrupt  and  worthless  of  all  forms  of  government  and  the 
most  susceptible  to  misuse  and  perversion  for  selfish,  per- 
sonal, and  class  purposes.  It  was  a  weakness  incurable  so 
long  as  the  capital  of  the  country,  its  economic  interests, 
remained  in  private  hands,  and  one  that  could  be  remedied 
only  by  the  radical  abolition  of  private  capitalism  and  the 
unification  of  the  nation's  capital  under  collective  control. 
This  done,  the  same  economic  motive — which,  while  the 


•   A  TWENTIETH-CENTURY  BANK  PARLOR.         29 

capital  remained  in  private  hands,  was  a  divisive  influence 
tending  to  destroy  that  public  spirit  which  is  the  breath  of 
life  in  a  democracy — became  the  most  powerful  of  cohesive 
forces,  making  popular  government  not  only  ideally  the 
most  just  but  practically  the  most  successful  and  efficient  of 
political  systems.  The  citizen,  who  before  had  been  the 
champion  of  a  part  against  the  rest,  became  by  this  change 
a  guardian  of  the  whole." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A  TWENTIETH-CENTURY  BANK   PARLOR. 

The  formalities  at  the  bank  proved  to  be  very  simple. 
Dr.  Leete  introduced  me  to  the  superintendent,  and  the  rest 
followed  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  whole  process  not  taking 
three  minutes.  I  was  informed  that  the  annual  credit  of 
the  adult  citizen  for  that  year  was  $4,000,  and  that  the  por- 
tion due  me  for  the  remainder  of  the  year,  it  being  the  latter 
part  of  September,  was  $1,075.41.  Taking  vouchers  to  the 
amount  of  $300,  I  left  the  rest  on  deposit  precisely  as  I 
should  have  done  at  one  of  the  nineteenth-century  banks 
in  drawing  money  for  present  use.  The  transaction  con- 
cluded, Mr.  Chapin,  the  superintendent,  invited  me  into  his 
office. 

"  How  does  our  banking  system  strike  you  as  compared 
with  that  of  your  day  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  It  has  one  manifest  advantage  from  the  point  of  view 
of  a  penniless  revenant  like  myself,"  I  said — "namely,  that 
one  receives  a  credit  without  having  made  a  deposit ;  other- 
wise I  scarcely  know  enough  of  it  to  give  an  opinion." 

"  When  you  come  to  be  more  familiar  with  our  banking 
methods,"  said  the  superintendent.  "I  think  you  will  be 
struck  with  their  similarity  to  your  own.  Of  course,  we  have 
no  money  and  nothing  answering  to  money,  but  the  whole 
science  of  banking  from  its  inception  was  preparing  the  way 
for  the  abolition  of  money.  The  only  way,  really,  in  which 
our  system  differs  from  yours  is  that  every  one  starts  the 


30  EQUALITY. 

year  with  the  same  balance  to  his  credit  and  that  this  credit 
is  not  transferable.  As  to  requiring  deposits  before  accounts 
are  opened,  we  are  necessarily  quite  as  strict  as  your  bankers 
were,  only  in  our  case  the  people,  collectively,  make  the  de- 
posit for  all  at  once.  This  collective  deposit  is  made  up  of 
such  provisions  of  different  commodities  and  such  installa- 
tions for  the  various  public  services  as  are  expected  to  be 
necessary.  Prices  or  cost  estimates  are  put  on  these  com- 
modities and  services,  and  the  aggregate  sum  of  the  prices 
being  divided  by  the  population  gives  the  amount  of  the 
citizen's  personal  credit,  which  is  simply  his  aliquot  share  of 
the  commodities  and  services  available  for  the  year.  No 
doubt,  however.  Dr.  Lcete  has  told  you  all  about  this." 

"But  I  was  not  here  to  be  included  in  the  estimate  of  the 
year,"  I  said.  "  I  hope  that  my  credit  is  not  taken  out  of 
other  people's." 

"You  need  feel  no  concern,"  replied  the  superintendent. 
"  While  it  is  astonishing  how  variations  in.  demand  balance 
one  another  when  great  populations  are  concerned,  yet  it 
would  be  impossible  to  conduct  so  big  a  business  as  ours 
without  large  margins.  It  is  the  aim  in  the  production  of 
perishable  things,  and  those  in  which  fancy  often  changes,  to 
keep  as  little  ahead  of  the  demand  as  possible,  but  in  all  the 
important  staples  such  great  surpluses  are  constantly  carried 
that  a  two  years'  drought  would  not  affect  the  price  of  non- 
perishable  produce,  while  an  unexiDected  addition  of  sev- 
eral millions  to  the  poj)ulation  could  be  taken  care  of  at  any 
time  without  disturbance." 

"  Dr.  Leete  has  told  me,"  I  said,  "  that  any  part  of  the 
credit  not  used  by  a  citizen  during  the  year  is  canceled,  not 
being  good  for  the  next  year.  I  suppose  that  is  to  prevent 
the  possibility  of  hoarding,  by  which  the  equality  of  your 
economic  condition  might  be  undermined." 

"  It  would  have  the  effect  to  prevent  such  hoarding,  cer- 
tainly," said  the  superintendent,  "  but  it  is  otherwise  needful 
to  simplify  the  national  bookkeeping  and  prevent  confusion. 
The  annual  credit  is  an  order  on  a  specific  provision  available 
during  a  certain  year.  For  the  next  year  a  new  calculation 
with  somewhat  different  elements  has  to  be  made,  and  to 
make  it  the  books  must  be  balanced  and  all  orders  canceled 


A  TWENTIETH-CENTURY  BANK  PAELOR.         31 

that  have  not  been  presented,  so  that  we  may  know  just 
where  we  stand." 

"  What,  on  the  other  hand,  will  happen  if  I  run  tlirough 
my  credit  before  the  year  is  out  ?  " 

The  superintendent  smiled.  "  I  have  read,"  he  said,  "  that 
the  spendthrift  evil  was  quite  a  serious  one  in  your  day. 
Our  system  has  the  advantage  over  yours  that  the  most  in- 
corrigible spendthrift  can  not  trench  on  his  principal,  which 
consists  in  his  indivisible  equal  share  in  the  caj^ital  of  the 
nation.  All  he  can  at  most  do  is  to  waste  the  annual  divi- 
dend. Should  you  do  this,  I  have  no  doubt  your  friends 
will  take  care  of  jou,  and  if  they  do  not  you  may  be  sure 
the  nation  will,  for  we  have  hot  the  strong  stomachs  that 
enabled  our  forefathers  to  enjoy  plenty  with  hungry  people 
about  them.  The  fact  is,  we  are  so  squeamish  that  the  knowl- 
edge that  a  single  individual  in  the  naJ,ion  was  in  want 
would  keep  us  all  awake  nights.  If  you  insisted  on  being 
in  need,  you  would  have  to  hide  away  for  the  purpose." 

"  Have  you  any  idea,"  I  asked,  "  liow  much  this  credit  of 
$4,000  would  have  been  equal  to  in  purchasing  power  in 
1887  ? " 

"Somewhere  about  $6,000  or  $7,000,  I  should  say,"  re- 
plied Mr.  Chapin.  "  In  estimating  the  economic  position  of 
the  citizen  you  must  consider  that  a  great  variety  of  services 
and  commodities  are  now  supplied  gratuitously  on  public 
account,  which  formerly  individuals  had  to  pay  for,  as,  for 
example,  water,  light,  music,  news,  the  theatre  and  opera,  all 
sorts  of  postal  and  electrical  communications,  transportation, 
and  other  things  too  numerous  to  detail." 

"  Since  you  furnish  so  much  on  public  or  common  ac- 
count, why  not  furnish  everything  in  that  way  ?  It  would 
simplify  matters,  I  should  say." 

"  We  think,  on  the  contrary,  that  it  would  complicate  the 
administration,  and  certainly  it  would  not  suit  the  people  as 
well.  You  see,  while  we  insist  on  equality  we  detest  uni- 
formity, and  seek  to  provide  free  play  to  the  greatest  possible 
variety  of  tastes  in  our  expenditure." 

Thinking  I  might  be  interested  in  looking  them  over,  the 
superintendent  had  brought  into  the  office  some  of  the  books 
of  the  bank.     Without  having  been  at  all  expert  in  nine- 


32  EQUALITY. 

teenth-century  methods  of  bookkeeping,  I  was  much  im- 
pressed with  the  extreme  simplicity  of  these  accounts  com- 
pared with  any  I  had  been  familiar  with.  Speaking  of  this, 
I  added  that  it  impressed  me  the  more,  as  I  had  received  an 
impression  that,  great  as  were  the  superiorities  of  the  na- 
tional co-operative  system  over  our  way  of  doing  business, 
it  must  involve  a  great  increase  in  the  amount  of  bookkeep- 
ing as  compared  with  what  was  necessary  under  the  old 
system,  The  superintendent  and  Dr.  Leete  looked  at  each 
other  and  smiled, 

"  Do  you  know,  Mr.  West,"  said  the  former,  "  it  strikes  us 
as  very  odd  that  you  should  have  that  idea  ?  We  estimate 
that  under  our  system  one  accountant  serves  where  dozens 
were  needed  in  your  day." 

"But,"  said  I,  "the  nation  has  now  a  separate  account 
with  or  for  every  man,  woman,  and  child  in  the  country." 

"  Of  course,"  replied  the  superintendent,  "  but  did  it  not 
have  the  same  in  your  day  ?  How  else  could  it  have  as- 
sessed and  collected  taxes  or  exacted  a  dozen  other  duties 
from  citizens  ?  For  example,  your  tax  system  alone  with 
its  inquisitions,  appraisements,  machinery  of  collection  and 
penalties  was  vastly  more  complex  than  the  accounts  in 
these  books  before  you,  which  consist,  as  you  see,  in  giving 
to  every  person  the  same  credit  at  the  beginning  of  the  year, 
and  afterward  simply  recording  the  withdrawals  without 
calculations  of  interest  or  other  incidents  whatever.  In  fact, 
Mr.  West,  so  simple  and  invariable  are  the  conditions  that 
the  accounts  are  kept  automatically  by  a  machine,  the  ac- 
countant merely  playing  on  a  keyboard." 

"  But  I  understand  that  every  citizen  has  a  record  kept 
also  of  his  services  as  the  basis  of  grading  and  regrading." 

"  Certainly,  and  a  most  minute  one,  with  most  careful 
guards  against  error  or  unfairness.  But  it  is  a  record  hav- 
ing none  of  the  complications  of  one  of  your  money  or 
wages  accounts  for  work  done,  but  is  rather  like  the  simple 
honor  records  of  your  educational  institutions  by  which 
the  ranking  of  the  students  was  determined." 

"  But  the  citizen  also  has  relations  with  the  public  stores 
from  which  he  supplies  his  needs  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  but  not  a  relation  of  arcoimt.     As  your  peo- 


A  TWENTIETH-CENTURY  BANK  PARLOR.         33 

pie  would  have  said,  all  purchases  are  for  cash  only — that  is, 
on  the  credit  card." 

"  There  remains,"  I  persisted,  "  the  accounting-  for  goods 
and  services  between  the  stores  and  the  productive  depart- 
ments and  between  the  several  departments." 

"  Certainly  ;  but  the  whole  system  being  under  one  head 
and  all  the  parts  working  together  with  no  friction  and  no 
motive  for  any  indirection,  such  accounting  is  child's  work 
compared  with  the  adjustment  of  dealings  between  the  mu- 
tually suspicious  private  capitalists,  who  divided  among 
themselves  the  field  of  business  in  your  day,  and  sat  up 
nights  devising  tricks  to  deceive,  defeat,  and  overreach  one 
another." 

*'  But  how  about  the  elaborate  statistics  on  which  you 
base  the  calculations  that  guide  production  ?  There  at  least 
is  need  of  a  good  deal  of  figuring." 

"Your  national  and  State  governments,"  replied  Mr. 
Chapin,  "  published  annually  great  masses  of  similar  statis- 
tics, which,  while  often  very  inaccurate,  must  have  cost  far 
more  trouble  to  accumulate,  seeing  that  they  involved  an 
unwelcome  inquisition  into  the  affairs  of  private  persons  in- 
stead of  a  mere  collection  of  reports  from  the  books  of  differ- 
ent departments  of  one  great  business.  Forecasts  of  prob- 
able consumption  every  manufacturer,  merchant,  and  store- 
keeper had  to  make  in  your  day,  and  mistakes  meant  ruin. 
Nevertheless,  he  could  but  guess,  because  he  had  no  sufficient 
data.  Given  the  complete  data  that  we  have,  and  a  forecast 
is  as  much  increased  in  certainty  as  it  is  simplified  in  diffi- 
culty." 

"  Kindly  spare  me  any  further  demonstration  of  the  stu- 
pidity of  my  criticism." 

"  Dear  me,  Mr.  West,  there  is  no  question  of  stupidity.  A 
wholly  new  system  of  things  always  impresses  the  mind  at 
first  sight  with  an  effect  of  complexity,  although  it  may 
be  found  on  examination  to  be  simplicity  itself.  But 
please  do  not  stop  me  just  yet,  for  I  have  told  you  only  one 
side  of  the  matter.  I  have  shown  you  how  few  and  simple 
are  the  accounts  we  keep  compared  with  those  in  corre- 
sponding relations  kept  by  you ;  but  the  biggest  part  of  the 
subject  is  the  accounts  you  had  to  keep  which  we  do  not 


84  EQUALITY. 

keep  at  all.  Debit  and  credit  are  no  longer  known  ;  interest, 
rents,  profits,  and  all  the  calculations  based  on  them  no 
more  have  anj  place  in  human  alfairs.  In  your  day  every- 
body, besides  his  account  with  the  state,  was  involved  in  a 
network  of  accounts  with  all  about  him.  Even  the  humblest 
wag-e-earner  was  on  the  books  of  half  a  dozen  tradesmen, 
while  a  man  of  substance  might  be  down  in  scores  or  hun- 
dreds, and  this  without  speaking  of  men  not  engaged  in 
commerce.  A  fairly  nimble  dollar  had  to  be  set  down  so 
many  times  in  so  many  places,  as  it  went  from  hand  to  hand, 
that  we  calculate  in  about  five  years  it  must  have  cost  itself 
in  ink,  paper,  pens,  and  clerk  hire,  let  alone  fret  and  worry. 
All  these  forms  of  private  and  business  accounts  have  now 
been  done  away  with.  Nobody  owes  anybody,  or  is  owed 
by  anybody,  or  has  any  contract  with  anybody,  or  any  ac- 
count of  any  sort  with  anybody,  but  is  simply  beholden  to 
everybody  for  such  kindly  regard  as  his  virtues  may  attract." 


CHAPTER  V. 

I  EXPERIENCE   A   NEW  SENSATION. 

"  Doctor,"  said  I  as  we  came  out  of  the  bank,  "  I  have  a 
most  extraordinary  feeling." 

"  What  sort  of  a  feeling  ? " 

"  It  is  a  sensation  which  I  never  had  anything  like  be- 
fore," I  said,  "  and  never  expected  to  have.  I  feel  as  if  I 
wanted  to  go  to  work.  Yes,  Julian  West,  millionaire, 
loafer  by  profession,  who  never  did  anything  useful  in  his 
life  and  never  wanted  to,  finds  himself  seized  with  an  over- 
mastering desire  to  roll  up  his  sleeves  and  do  something 
toward  rendering  an  equivalent  for  his  living." 

"  But,"  said  the  doctor,  "  Congress  has  declared  you  the 
guest  of  the  nation,  and  expressly  exempted  you  from  the 
duty  of  rendering  any  sort  of  public  service." 

"  That  is  all  very  well,  and  I  take  it  kindly,  but  I  begin 
to  feel  that  I  should  not  enjoy  knowing  that  I  was  living 
on  other  people." 


I  EXPERIENCE  A  NEW  SENSATION.  35 

"What  do  you  suppose  it  is,"  said  the  doctor,  smiling, 
"that  has  given  you  this  sensitiveness  about  living  on 
others  which,  as  you  say,  you  never  felt  before  ? " 

"I  have  never  been  much  given  to  self -analysis,"  I 
replied,  ''but  the  change  of  feeling  is  very  easily  explained 
in  this  case.  I  find  myself  surrounded  by  a  community 
every  member  of  which  not  physically  disqualified  is  doing 
his  or  her  own  part  toward  providing  the  material  pros- 
perity which  I  share.  A  person  must  be  of  remarkably 
tougii  sensibilities  who  would  not  feel  ashamed  under  such 
circumstances  if  he  did  not  take  hold  with  the  rest  and  do 
his  part.  Why  didn't  I  feel  that  way  about  the  duty  of 
Avorking  in  the  nineteenth  century  ?  Why,  simply  because 
there  was  no  such  system  then  for  sharing  work,  or  indeed 
any  system  at  all.  For  the  reason  that  there  was  no  fair 
play  or  suggestion  of  justice  in  the  distribution  of  work, 
everybody  shirked  it  who  could,  and  those  who  could  not 
shirk  it  cursed  the  luckier  ones  and  got  even  by  doing  as 
bad  work  as  they  could.  Suppose  a  rich  young  fellow  like 
myself  had  a  feeling  that  he  would  like  to  do  his  part.  How 
was  he  going  to  go  about  it  ?  There  was  absolutely  no  social 
organization  by  which  labor  could  be  shared  on  any  prin- 
ciple of  justice.  There  was  no  possibility  of  co-operation.  We 
had  to  choose  between  taking  advantage  of  the  economic 
system  to  live  on  other  people  or  have  them  take  advantage 
of  it  to  live  on  us.  We  had  to  climb  on  their  backs  as  the 
only  wa}^  of  preventing  them  from  climbing  on  our  backs. 
We  had  the  alternative  of  profiting  by  an  unjust  system  or 
being  its  victims.  There  being  no  more  moral  satisfaction 
in  the  one  alternative  than  the  other,  we  naturally  preferred 
the  first.  By  glimpses  all  the  more  decent  of  us  realized  the 
ineffable  meanness  of  sponging  our  living  out  of  the  toilers, 
but  our  consciences  were  completely  bedeviled  by  an  eco- 
nomic system  which  seemed  a  hopeless  muddle  that  nobody 
could  see  through  or  set  right  or  do  right  under.  I  will 
undertake  to  say  that  there  was  not  a  man  of  my  set,  cer- 
tainly not  of  my  friends,  who,  placed  just  as  I  am  this  morn- 
ing in  presence  of  an  absolutely  simple,  just,  and  equal  sys- 
tem for  distributing  the  industrial  burden,  w^ould  not  feel 
just  as  I  do  the  impulse  to  roll  up  his  sleeves  and  take  hold." 


36  EQUALITY. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  of  it,"  said  the  doctor.  "  Your  experi- 
ence strikingly  confirms  the  chapter  of  revolutionary  his- 
tory which  tells  us  that  when  the  present  economic  order 
w^as  established  those  who  had  been  under  the  old  system 
the  most  irreclaimable  loafers  and  vagabonds,  responding 
to  the  absolute  justice  and  fairness  of  the  new  arrangements, 
rallied  to  the  service  of  the  state  with  enthusiasm.  But 
talking  of  what  you  are  to  do,  why  was  not  my  former  sug- 
gestion a  good  one,  that  you  should  tell  our  people  in  lec- 
tures about  the  nineteenth  century  ?  " 

"  I  thought  at  first  that  it  would  be  a  good  idea,"  I  re- 
plied, "  but  our  talk  in  the  garden  this  morning  has  about 
convinced  me  that  the  very  last  people  who  had  any  intelli- 
gent idea  of  the  nineteenth  century,  what  it  meant,  and 
what  it  was  leading  to,  were  just  myself  and  my  contem- 
poraries of  that  time.  After  I  have  been  with  you  a  few 
years  I  may  learn  enough  about  my  own  period  to  discuss 
it  intelligently." 

"  There  is  something  in  that,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  Mean- 
while, you  see  that  great  building  with  the  dome  just  across 
the  square  ?  That  is  our  local  Industrial  Exchange.  Per- 
haps, seeing  that  we  are  talking  of  what  you  are  to  do  to 
make  yourself  useful,  you  may  be  interested  in  learning  a 
little  of  the  method  by  which  our  people  choose  their  occu- 
pations." 

I  readily  assented,  and  we  crossed  the  square  to  the  ex- 
change. 

"  I  have  given  you  thus  far,"  said  the  doctor,  "  only  a 
general  outline  of  our  system  of  universal  industrial  serv- 
ice. You  know  that  every  one  of  either  sex,  unless  for  some 
reason  temporarily  or  permanently  exempt,  enters  the  pub- 
lic industrial  service  in  the  twenty-first  year,  and  after  three 
years  of  a  sort  of  general  apprenticeship  in  the  unclassified 
grades  elects  a  special  occupation,  unless  he  prefers  to  study 
further  for  one  of  the  scientific  professions.  As  there  are  a 
million  youth,  more  or  less,  who  thus  annually  elect  their 
occupations,  you  may  imagine  that  it  must  be  a  complex 
task  to  find  a  place  for  each  in  which  his  or  her  own 
taste  shall  be  suited  as  well  as  the  needs  of  the  public  serv- 
ice." 


I  EXPERIENCE  A  NEW  SENSATION.  37 

I  assured  the  doctor  that  I  had  indeed  made  this  reflec- 
tion. 

"A  very  few  moments  will  suffice,"  he  said.  "  to  disabuse 
your  mind  of  that  notion  and  to  show  you  how  wonderfully 
a  little  rational  system  has  simplified  the  task  of  finding  a 
fitting  vocation  in  life  which  used  to  be  so  difficult  a  matter 
in  your  day  and  so  rarely  was  accomplished  in  a  satisfactory 
manner." 

Finding  a  comfortable  corner  for  us  near  one  of  the  win- 
dows of  the  central  hall,  the  doctor  presently  brouglit  a  lot  of 
sample  blanks  and  schedules  and  proceeded  to  explain  them 
to  me.  First  he  showed  me  the  annual  statement  of  exi- 
gencies by  the  General  Government,  specifying  in  what  pro- 
portion the  force  of  workers  that  was  to  become  available 
that  year  ought  to  be  distributed  among  the  several  occu- 
pations in  order  to  carry  on  the  industrial  service.  That 
was  the  side  of  the  subject  which  represented  the  necessities 
of  the  public  service  that  must  be  met.  Next  he  showed  me 
the  volunteering  or  preference  blank,  on  which  every  youth 
that  year  gi'aduating  from  the  unclassified  service  indicated, 
if  he  chose  to,  the  order  of  his  preference  as  to  the  various 
occui)ations  making  up  the  public  service,  it  being  inferred, 
if  he  did  not  fill  out  the  blank,  that  he  or  she  was  willing  to 
be  assigned  for  the  convenience  of  the  service. 

"  But,"  said  I,  "  locality  of  residence  is  often  quite  as  im- 
portant as  the  kind  of  one's  occupation.  For  example,  one 
might  not  wish  to  be  separated  from  parents,  and  certainly 
would  not  wish  to  be  from  a  sweetheart,  however  agreeable 
the  occupation  assigned  might  be  in  other  respects." 

"Very  true,"  said  the  doctor.  "  If,  indeed,  our  industrial 
system  undertook  to  separate  lovers  and  friends,  husbands 
and  wives,  parents  and  children,  without  regard  to  their 
wishes,  it  certainly  would  not  last  long.  You  see  this  col- 
umn of  localities.  If  you  make  your  cross  against  Boston 
in  that  column,  it  becomes  imperative  upon  the  administra- 
tion to  provide  you  employment  somewhere  in  this  district. 
It  is  one  of  the  rights  of  every  citizen  to  demand  employment 
within  his  home  district.  Otherwise,  as  you  say,  ties  of  love 
and  friendship  might  be  rudely  broken.  But,  of  course,  one 
can  not  have  his  cake  and  eel  it  too ;  if  you  make  work  in 
4 


38  EQUALITY. 

the  home  district  imperative,  you  may  have  to  take  an  occu- 
pation to  which  you  would  have  preferred  some  other  that 
might  have  been  open  to  you  had  you  been  willing  to  leave 
home.  However,  it  is  not  common  that  one  needs  to  sacri- 
fice a  chosen  career  to  the  ties  of  affection.  The  country  is 
divided  into  industrial  districts  or  circles,  in  each  of  which 
there  is  intended  to  be  as  nearly  as  possible  a  complete  sys- 
tem of  industry,  wherein  all  the  important  arts  and  occu- 
pations are  represented.  It  is  in  this  way  made  possible  for 
most  of  us  to  find  an  opportunity  in  a  chosen  occupation 
without  separation  from  friends.  This  is  the  more  simply 
done,  as  the  modern  means  of  communication  have  so  far 
abolished  distance  that  the  man  who  lives  in  Boston  and 
works  in  Springfield,  one  hundred  miles  away,  is  quite  as  near 
his  place  of  business  as  was  the  average  workingman  of  your 
day.  One  who,  living  in  Boston,  should  work  two  hundred 
miles  away  (in  Albany),  would  be  far  better  situated  than 
the  average  suburbanite  doing  business  in  Boston  a  century 
ago.  But  while  a  great  number  desire  to  fuid  occupations  at 
home,  there  are  also  many  who  from  love  of  change  much 
prefer  to  leave  the  scenes  of  their  childhood.  These,  too,  indi- 
cate their  preferences  by  marking  the  number  of  the  district 
to  which  they  prefer  to  be  assigned.  Second  or  third  prefer- 
ences may  likewise  be  indicated,  so  that  it  would  go  hard  in- 
deed if  one  could  not  obtain  a  location  in  at  least  the  part 
of  the  country  he  desired,  though  the  locality  preference  is 
imperative  only  when  the  person  desires  to  stay  in  the  home 
district.  Otherwise  it  is  consulted  so  far  as  consistent  with 
conflicting  claims.  The  volunteer  having  thus  filled  out  his 
preference  blank,  takes  it  to  the  proper  registrar  and  has  his 
ranking  oSicially  stamped  upon  it." 

"  What  is  the  ranking  ? "  I  asked. 

"  It  is  the  figure  which  indicates  his  previous  standing  in 
the  schools  and  during  his  service  as  an  unclassified  worker, 
and  is  supposed  to  give  the  best  attainable  criterion  thus  far 
of  his  relative  intelligence,  efficiency,  and  devotion  to  duty. 
Where  there  are  more  volunteers  for  particular  occupations 
than  there  is  room  for,  the  lowest  in  ranking  have  to  be 
content  with  a  second  or  third  preference.  The  preference 
blanks  are  finally  handed  in  at  the  local  exchange,  and  are 


I  EXPERIENCE  A  NEW  SENSATION.  39 

collated  at  the  central  office  of  the  industrial  district.  All 
who  have  made  home  work  imperative  are  first  provided 
for  in  accordance  with  rank.  The  blanks  of  those  prefer- 
ring work  in  other  districts  are  forwarded  to  the  national 
bureau  and  there  collated  with  those  from  other  districts,  so 
that  the  volunteers  may  be  provided  for  as  nearly  as  may 
be  according  to  their  wishes,  subject,  where  conflict  of  claim 
arises,  to  their  relative  ranking  right.  It  has  always  been 
observed  that  the  personal  eccentricities  of  individuals  in 
great  bodies  have  a  wonderful  tendency  to  balance  and 
mutually  complement  one  another,  and  this  principle  is 
strikingly  illustrated  in  our  system  of  choice  of  occupation 
and  locality.  The  preference  blanks  are  filled  out  in  June, 
and  by  the  first  of  August  everybody  knows  just  where  he 
or  she  is  to  report  for  service  in  October. 

"  However,  if  any  one  has  received  an  assignment  which 
is  decidedly  unwelcome  either  as  to  location  or  occupation, 
it  is  not  even  then,  or  indeed  at  any  time,  too  late  to  endeavor 
to  find  another.  The  administration  has  done  its  best  to 
adjust  the  individual  aptitude  and  wishes  of  each  worker  to 
the  needs  of  the  public  service,  but  its  machinery  is  at  his 
service  for  any  further  attempts  he  may  wish  to  make  to  suit 
himself  better." 

And  then  the  doctor  took  me  to  the  Transfer  Department 
and  showed  me  how  persons  who  were  dissatisfied  either 
with  their  assignment  of  occupation  or  locality  could  put 
themselves  in  communication  with  all  others  in  any  part  of 
the  country  who  were  similarly  dissatisfied,  and  arrange, 
subject  to  liberal  regulations,  such  exchanges  as  might  be 
mutually  agreeable. 

"  If  a  person  is  not  absolutely  unwilling  to  do  anything  at 
all,"  he  said,  "  and  does  not  object  to  all  parts  of  the  country 
equally,  he  ought  to  be  able  sooner  or  later  to  provide  him- 
self both  with  pretty  nearly  the  occupation  and  locality  he 
desires.  And  if,  after  all,  there  should  be  any  one  so  dull 
that  he  can  not  hope  to  succeed  in  his  occupation  or  make 
a  better  exchange  with  another,  yet  there  is  no  occupation 
now  tolerated  by  the  state  which  would  not  have  been  as  to 
its  conditions  a  godsend  to  the  most  fortunately  situated 
workman  of  your  day.    There  is  none  in  which  x>eril  to  life 


40  EQUALITY. 

or  health  is  not  reduced  to  a  minimum,  and  the  dignity  and 
rights  of  the  worker  absolutely  guaranteed.  It  is  a  constant 
study  of  the  administration  so  to  bait  the  less  attractive  oc- 
cupations with  special  advantages  as  to  leisure  and  other- 
wise always  to  keep  the  balance  of  preference  between  them 
as  nearly  true  as  possible ;  and  if,  finally,  there  were  any 
occupation  which,  after  all,  remained  so  distasteful  as  to  at- 
tract no  volunteers,  and  yet  was  necessary,  its  duties  would 
be  performed  by  all  in  rotation." 

"As,  for  example,"  I  said,  "the  work  of  repairing  and 
cleansing  the  sewers." 

"  If  that  sort  of  work  were  as  offensive  as  it  must  have 
been  in  your  day,  I  dare  say  it  might  have  to  be  done  by  a 
rotation  in  which  all  would  take  their  turn,"  replied  the 
doctor,  "but  our  sewers  are  as  clean  as  our  streets.  They 
convey  only  water  which  has  been  chemically  purified  and 
deodorized  before  it  enters  them  by  an  ai)paratus  connected 
with  every  dwelling.  By  the  same  apparatus  all  solid  sew- 
age is  electrically  cremated,  and  removed  in  the  form  of 
ashes.  This  improvement  in  the  sewer  system,  which  fol- 
lowed the  great  Revolution  very  closely,  might  have  waited 
a  hundred  years  before  introduction  but  for  the  Revolution, 
although  the  necessary  scientific  knowledge  and  appliances 
had  long  been  available.  The  case  furnishes  merely  one  in- 
stance out  of  a  thousand  of  the  devices  for  avoiding  repul- 
sive and  perilous  sorts  of  work  which,  while  simple  enough, 
the  world  would  never  have  troubled  itself  to  adopt  so  long 
as  the  rich  had  in  the  poor  a  race  of  uncomplaining  eco- 
nomic serfs  on  which  to  lay  all  their  burdens.  The  effect  of 
economic  equality  was  to  make  it  equally  the  interest  of  all 
to  avoid,  so  far  as  possible,  the  more  unpleasant  tasks,  since 
henceforth  they  must  be  shared  by  all.  In  this  way,  wholly 
apart  from  the  moral  aspects  of  the  matter,  the  progress  of 
chemical,  sanitary,  and  mechanical  science  owes  an  incalcu- 
lable debt  to  the  Revolution." 

"  Probably,"  I  said,  "  you  have  sometimes  eccentric  per- 
sons— '  crooked  sticks '  we  used  to  call  them — who  refuse  to 
adapt  themselves  to  the  social  order  on  any  terms  or  admit 
any  such  thing  as  social  duty.  If  such  a  person  should 
flatly  refuse  to  render  any  sort  of  industrial  or  useful  service 


1  EXPERIENCE  A  NEW  SENSATION.  41 

on  any  terms,  wliat  would  be  done  with  him  ?  No  doubt 
there  is  a  compulsory  side  to  your  system  for  dealing  with 
such  persons  ? " 

''  Not  at  all,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  If  our  system  can  not 
stand  on  its  merits  as  the  best  possible  arrangement  for  pro- 
moting the  highest  welfare  of  all,  let  it  fall.  As  to  the 
matter  of  industrial  service,  the  law  is  simply  that  if  any 
one  shall  refuse  to  do  his  or  her  part  toward  the  mainte- 
nance of  the  social  order  he  shall  not  be  allowed  to  partake 
of  its  benefits.  It  would  obviously  not  be  fair  to  the  rest 
that  he  should  do  so.  But  as  to  compelling  him  to  work 
against  his  will  by  force,  such  an  idea  would  be  abhorrent 
to  our  people.  The  service  of  society  is,  above  all,  a  service 
of  honor,  and  all  its  associations  are  w^iat  you  used  to  call 
chivalrous.  Even  as  in  your  day  soldiers  would  not  serve 
with  skulkers,  but  drummed  cowards  out  of  the  camp,  so 
would  our  workers  refuse  the  companionship  of  persons 
•  openly  seeking  to  evade  their  civic  duty." 

"  But  what  do  you  do  with  such  persons  ?  " 

"  If  an  adult,  being  neither  criminal  nor  insane,  should 
deliberately  and  fixedly  refuse  to  render  his  quota  of  service 
in  any  way,  either  in  a  chosen  occupation  or,  on  failure  to 
choose,  in  an  assigned  one,  he  would  be  furnished  with  such 
a  collection  of  seeds  and  tools  as  he  might  choose  and  turned 
loose  on  a  reservation  expressly  prepared  for  such  persons, 
corresponding  a  little  perhaps  with  the  reservations  set  apart 
for  such  Indians  in  your  day  as  were  unwilling  to  accept 
civilization.  There  he  would  be  left  to  work  out  a  better 
solution  of  the  problem  of  existence  than  our  society  offers, 
if  he  could  do  so.  We  think  we  have  the  best  possible  social 
system,  but  if  there  is  a  better  we  want  to  know  it,  so  that 
we  may  adopt  it.     We  encom-age  the  spirit  of  experiment." 

"  And  are  there  really  cases,"  I  said,  "  of  individuals  who 
thus  voluntarily  abandon  society  in  preference  to  fulfilling 
their  social  duty  ?  " 

"  There  have  been  such  cases,  though  I  do  not  know  that 
there  are  any  at  the  present  time.  But  the  provision  for 
them  exists." 


42  EQUALITY. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

HONI   SOIT   QUI   MAL  Y   PENSE. 

When  we  reached  the  house  the  doctor  said  : 

"  I  am  going  to  leave  you  to  Edith  this  morning.  The 
fact  is,  my  duties  as  mentor,  while  extremely  to  my  taste, 
are  not  quite  a  sinecure.  The  questions  raised  in  our  talks 
frequently  suggest  the  necessity  of  refreshing  my  general 
knowledge  of  the  contrasts  between  your  day  and  this  by 
looking  up  the  historical  authorities.  The  conversation  this 
morning  has  indicated  lines  of  research  which  will  keep  me 
busy  in  the  library  the  rest  of  the  day.'" 

I  found  Edith  in  the  garden,  and  received  her  congratula- 
tions upon  my  fully  fledged  citizenship.  She  did  not  seem 
at  all  surprised  on  learning  my  intention  promptly  to  find 
a  place  in  the  industrial  service. 

"  Of  course  you  will  want  to  enter  the  service  as  soon  as 
you  can,"  she  said.  "  I  knew  you  would.  It  is  the  only  way 
to  get  in  touch  with  the  people  and  feel  really  one  of  the 
nation.  It  is  the  great  event  we  all  look  forward  to  from 
childhood." 

"  Talking  of  industrial  service,"  I  said,  ''  reminds  me  of  a 
question  it  has  a  dozen  times  occurred  to  me  to  ask  you.  I 
understand  that  every  one  who  is  able  to  do  so,  women  as 
well  as  men,  serves  the  nation  from  twenty-one  to  forty-five 
years  of  age  in  some  useful  accupation ;  but  so  far  as  I  have 
seen,  although  you  are  the  picture  of  health  and  vigor,  you 
have  no  employment,  but  are  quite  like  young  ladies  of  ele- 
gant leisure  in  my  day,  who  spent  their  time  sitting  in  the 
parlor  and  looking  handsome.  Of  course,  it  is  highly 
agreeable  to  me  that  you  should  be  so  free,  but  how,  exactly, 
is  so  much  leisure  on  your  part  squared  with  the  universal 
obligation  of  service  ?  " 

Edith  was  greatly  amused.  "  And  so  you  thought  I  was 
shirking  ?  Had  it  not  occurred  to  you  that  there  might 
probably  be  such  things  as  vacations  or  furloughs  in  the  in- 
dustrial service,  and  that  the  rather  unusual  and  interesting 
guest  in  our  household  might  furnish  a  natural  occasion  for 
me  to  take  an  outing  if  I  could  get  it  ?  " 


HONI  SOIT   QUI  MAL   Y   PENSB.  43 

''  And  can  you  take  your  vacation  when  you  please  ?  " 

"We  can  take  a  portion  of  it  when  we  please,  always 
subject,  of  course,  to  the  needs  of  the  service." 

"But  what  do  you  do  when  you  are  at  work — teach 
school,  paint  china,  keep  books  for  the  Government,  stand 
behind  a  counter  in  the  public  stores,  or  operate  a  typewriter 
or  telegraph  wire  ?  " 

"  Does  that  list  exhaust  the  number  of  women's  occupa- 
tions in  your  day  ? " 

"  Oh,  no  ;  those  were  only  some  of  their  lighter  and  pleas- 
anter  occupations.  Women  were  also  the  scrubbers,  the 
washers,  the  servants  of  all  work.  The  most  repulsive  and 
humiliating  kinds  of  drudgery  were  put  off  upon  the  women 
of  the  poorer  class  ;  but  I  suppose,  of  course,  you  do  not  do 
any  such  work." 

"  You  may  be  sure  that  I  do  my  part  of  whatever  un- 
pleasant things  there  are  to  do,  and  so  does  every  one  in  the 
nation ;  but,  indeed,  we  have  long  ago  arranged  affairs  so 
that  there  is  very  little  such  work  to  do.  But,  tell  me,  were 
there  no  women  in  your  day  who  were  machinists,  farmers, 
engineers,  carpenters,  iron  workers,  builders,  engine  drivers, 
or  members  of  the  other  great  crafts  ?  " 

"  There  were  no  women  in  such  occui^ations.  They 
were  followed  by  men  only." 

"  I  supi>ose  I  knew  that,"  she  said  ;  "  I  have  read  as  much  ; 
but  it  is  strange  to  talk  with  a  man  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury who  is  so  much  like  a  man  of  to-day  and  realize  that 
the  women  were  so  different  as  to  seem  like  another  order 
of  beings." 

"  But,  really,"  said  I,  "  I  don't  understand  how  in  these 
respects  the  women  can  do  very  differently  now  unless  they 
are  physically  much  stronger.  Most  of  these  occupations 
you  have  just  mentioned  were  too  heavy  for  their  strength, 
and  for  that  reason,  largely,  were  limited  to  men,  as  I  should 
suppose  they  must  still  be." 

"  There  is  not  a  trade  or  occupation  in  the  whole  list," 
replied  Edith,  "  in  which  women  do  not  take  part.  It  is 
partly  because  we  are  i^hysically  much  more  vigorous  than 
the  XDOor  creatures  of  your  time  that  we  do  the  sorts  of  work 
that  were  too  heavy  for  them,  but  it  is  still  more  an  account 


44  EQUALITY. 

of  the  perfection  of  machinery.  As  we  have  grown  stronger, 
all  sorts  of  work  have  grown  lighter.  Almost  no  heavy 
work  is  done  directly  now ;  machines  do  all,  and  we  only 
need  to  guide  them,  and  the  lighter  the  hand  that  guides, 
the  better  the  work  done.  So  you  see  that  nowadays  phys- 
ical qualities  have  much  less  to  do  than  mental  with  the 
choice  of  occui)ations.  The  mind  is  constantly  getting 
nearer  to  the  work,  and  father  says  some  day  we  may  be 
able  to  work  by  sheer  will  power  directly  and  have  no  need 
of  hands  at  all.  It  is  said  that  there  are  actually  more  women 
than  men  in  great  machine  works.  My  mother  was  first 
lieutenant  in  a  great  iron  works.  Some  have  a  theory  that 
the  sense  of  power  which  one  has  in  controlling  giant  en- 
gines appeals  to  women's  sensibilities  even  more  than  to 
men's.  But  really  it  is  not  quite  fair  to  make  you  guess 
what  my  occupation  is,  for  I  have  not  fully  decided  on  it." 

"  But  you  said  you  were  already  at  work." 

"  Oh,  yes,  but  you  know  that  before  we  choose  our  life 
occupation  we  are  three  years  in  the  unclassified  or  miscel- 
laneous class  of  workers.  I  am  in  my  second  year  in  that 
class." 

"  What  do  you  do  ?  " 

"  A  little  of  everything  and  nothing  long.  The  idea  is 
to  give  us  during  that  period  a  little  practical  experience  in 
all  the  main  departments  of  work,  so  that  we  may  know 
better  how  and  what  to  choose  as  an  occupation.  We  are 
supposed  to  have  got  through  with  the  schools  before  we 
enter  this  class,  but  really  I  have  learned  more  since  I  have 
been  at  work  than  in  twice  the  time  spent  in  school.  You 
can  not  imagine  how  perfectly  delightful  this  grade  of  work 
is.  I  don't  wonder  some  xDeople  prefer  to  stay  in  it  all  their 
lives  for  the  sake  of  the  constant  change  in  tasks,  rather 
than  elect  a  regular  occupation.  Just  now  I  am  among  the 
agricultural  workers  on  the  great  farm  near  Lexington.  It 
is  delightful,  and  I  have  about  made  up  my  mind  to  choose 
farm  work  as  an  occupation.  That  is  what  I  had  in  mind 
when  I  asked  you  to  guess  my  trade.  Do  you  think  you 
would  ever  have  guessed  that  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  ever  should,  and  unless  the  conditions 
of  farm  work  have  greatly  changed  since  my  day  I  can 


HONI  SOIT   QUI  MAL   Y  PENSE.  45 

not  imagine  how  you  could  manage  it  in  a  woman's  cos- 
tume." 

Edith  regarded  me  for  a  moment  with  an  expression  of 
simple  surprise,  her  eyes  growing  large.  Then  her  glance 
fell  to  her  dress,  and  when  she  again  looked  up  her  expres- 
sion had  changed  to  one  which  was  at  once  meditative, 
humorous,  and  wholly  inscrutable.     Presently  she  said  : 

"  Have  you  not  observed,  my  dear  Julian,  that  the  dress 
of  the  women  you  see  on  the  streets  is  different  from  that 
which  women  wore  in  the  nineteenth  century  ?  " 

''  I  have  noticed,  of  course,  that  they  generally  wear  no 
skirts,  but  you  and  your  mother  dress  as  w^omen  did  in 
my  day." 

"And  has  it  not  occurred  to  you  to  wonder  why  our 
dress  was  not  like  theirs — why  we  wear  skirts  and  they  do 
not?" 

"  Possibly  that  has  occurred  to  me  among  the  thousand 
other  questions  that  every  day  arise  in  my  mind,  only  to  be 
driven  out  by  a  thousand  others  before  I  can  ask  them  ;  but 
I  think  in  this  case  I  should  have  rather  wondered  why  these 
other  women  did  not  dress  as  you  do  instead  of  why  you  did 
not  dress  as  they  do,  for  your  costume,  being  the  one  I  was 
accustomed  to,  naturally  struck  me  as  the  normal  type,  and 
this  other  style  as  a  variation  for  some  special  or  local  rea- 
son which  I  should  later  learn  about.  You  must  not  think 
me  altogether  stupid.  To  tell  the  truth,  these  other  women 
have  as  yet  scarcely  impressed  me  as  being  very  real.  You 
were  at  first  the  only  person  about  whose  reality  I  felt  en- 
tirely sure.  All  the  others  seemed  merely  parts  of  a  fan- 
tastic farrago  of  wonders,  more  or  less  possible,  which  is 
only  just  beginning  to  become  intelligible  and  coherent.  In 
time  I  should  doubtless  have  awakened  to  the  fact  that 
there  were  other  women  in  the  world  besides  yourself  and 
begun  to  make  inquiries  about  them." 

As  I  spoke  of  the  absoluteness  with  which  I  had  de- 
pended on  her  during  those  first  bewildering  days  for  the 
assurance  even  of  my  own  identity  the  quick  tears  rushed 
to  my  companion's  eyes,  and — well,  for  a  space  the  other 
women  were  more  completely  forgotten  than  ever. 

Presently  she  said :  "  What  were  we  talking  about  ?    Oh, 


46  EQUALITY. 

yes,  I  remember — about  those  other  women,  I  have  a  con- 
fession to  make.  I  have  been  guilty  toward  you  all  this 
time  of  a  sort  of  fraud,  or  at  least  of  a  flagrant  suppres- 
sion of  the  truth,  which  ought  not  to  be  kept  up  a  moment 
longer.  I  sincerely  hope  you  will  forgive  me,  in  considera- 
tion of  my  motive,  and  not — " 

"  Not  what  ?  " 

"  Not  be  too  much  startled." 

"  You  make  me  very  curious,"  I  said.  "  What  is  this 
mystery  ?    I  think  I  can  stand  the  disclosure." 

"Listen,  then,"  she  said.  "  That  wonderful  night  when 
we  saw  you  fii^st,  of  course  our  great  thought  was  to  avoid 
agitating  you  when  you  should  recover  full  consciousness 
by  any  more  evidence  of  the  amazing  things  that  had  hap- 
pened since  your  day  than  it  was  necessary  you  should  see. 
We  knew  that  in  your  time  the  use  of  long  skirts  by  women 
was  universal,  and  we  reflected  that  to  see  mother  and  me  in 
the  modern  dress  would  no  doubt  strike  you  very  strangely. 
Now,  you  see,  although  skirtless  costumes  are  the  general — 
indeed,  almost  universal — wear  for  most  occasions,  all  pos- 
sible costumes,  ancient  and  modern,  of  all  races,  ages,  and 
civilizations,  are  either  provided  or  to  be  obtained  on  the 
shortest  possible  notice  at  the  stores.  It  was  therefore  very 
easy  for  us  to  furnish  ourselves  with  the  old-style  dress  before 
father  introduced  you  to  us.  He  said  people  had  in  your 
day  such  strange  ideas  of  feminine  modesty  and  propriety 
that  it  would  be  the  best  way  to  do.  Can  you  forgive  us, 
Julian,  for  taking  such  an  advantage  of  your  ignorance  ?  " 

"  Edith,"  I  said,  "  there  were  a  great  many  institutions  of 
the  nineteenth  century  which  we  tolerated  because  we  did 
not  know  how  to  get  rid  of  them,  without,  however,  having 
a  bit  better  opinion  of  them  than  you  have,  and  one  of  them 
was  the  costume  by  means  of  which  our  women  used  to  dis- 
guise and  cripple  themselves." 

"  I  am  delighted  ! "  exclaimed  Edith.  "  I  perfectly  de- 
test these  horrible  bags,  and  will  not  wear  them  a  moment 
longer  !  "  And  bidding  me  wait  where  I  was,  she  ran  into 
the  house. 

Five  minutes,  perhaps,  I  waited  there  in  the  arbor, 
where  we  had  been  sitting,  and  then,  at  a  light  step  on  the 


HONI  SOIT   QUI  MAL   Y  PENSE.  4,7 

gra?-,  looked  up  to  see  Edith  with  eyes  of  smiling  challenge 
standing  before  me  in  modern  dress.  I  have  seen  her  in  a 
hundred  varieties  of  that  costume  since  then,  and  have 
grown  familiar  with  the  exhaustless  diversity  of  its  adapta- 
tions, but  I  defy  the  imagination  of  the  greatest  artist  to  de- 
vise a  scheme  of  color  and  fabric  that  would  again  produce 
upon  me  the  effect  of  enchanting  surprise  which  I  received 
from  that  quite  simple  and  hasty  toilet. 

I  don't  know  how  long  I  stood  looking  at  her  without  a 
thought  of  words,  my  eyes  meanwhile  no  doubt  testifying 
eloquently  enough  how  adorable  I  found  her.  She  seemed, 
however,  to  divine  more  than  that  in  my  expression,  for 
presently  she  exclaimed  : 

"  I  would  give  anything  to  know  what  you  are  thinking 
down  in  the  bottom  of  your  mind  !  It  must  be  something 
awfully  funny.     What  are  you  turning  so  red  for  ?  " 

"  I  am  blushing  for  myself,"  I  said,  and  that  is  all  I 
would  tell  her,  much  as  she  teased  me.  Now,  at  this  dis- 
tance of  time  I  may  tell  the  truth.  My  first  sentiment, 
apart  from  overwhelming  admiration,  had  been  a  slight 
astonishment  at  her  absolute  ease  and  composure  of  bearing 
under  my  gaze.  This  is  a  confession  that  may  well  seem  in- 
comprehensible to  twentieth-century  readers,  and  God  forbid 
that  they  should  ever  catch  the  point  of  view  which  would 
enable  them  to  understand  it  better !  A  woman  of  my  day, 
unless  professionally  accustomed  to  use  this  sort  of  cos- 
tume, would  have  seemed  embarrassed  and  ill  at  ease,  at 
least  for  a  time,  under  a  gaze  so  intent  as  mine,  even 
though  it  were  a  brothei's  or  a  father's.  I,  it  seems,  had 
been  prepared  for  at  least  some  slight  appearance  of  discom- 
posure on  Edith's  part,  and  was  consciously  surprised  at  a 
manner  which  simply  expressed  an  ingenuous  gratification 
at  my  admiration.  I  refer  to  this  momentary  experience 
because  it  has  always  seemed  to  me  to  illustrate  in  a  par- 
ticularly vivid  way  the  change  that  has  taken  place  not 
only  in  the  customs  but  in  the  mental  attitude  of  the  sexes 
as  to  each  other  since  my  former  life.  In  justice  to  myself 
I  must  hasten  to  add  that  this  first  feeling  of  surprise  van- 
ished even  as  it  arose,  in  a  moment,  between  two  heart-beats. 
I  caught  from  her  clear,  serene  eyes  the  view  point  of  the 


48  EQUALITY. 

modern  man  as  to  woman,  never  again  to  lose  it.  Then  it 
was  that  I  flushed  red  with  shame  for  myself.  Wild  horses 
could  not  have  dragged  from  me  the  secret  of  that  blush  at 
the  time,  though  I  have  told  her  long  ago. 

"I  was  tliinking,"  I  said,  and  I  was  thinking  so,  too, 
"  that  we  ought  to  be  greatly  obliged  to  twentieth-century 
women  for  revealing  for  the  first  time  the  artistic  possibili- 
ties of  the  masculine  dress.'' 

"  The  masculine  dress,"  she  repeated,  as  if  not  quite  com- 
prehending my  meaning.     "  Do  you  mean  my  dress  ? " 

"  Why,  yes ;  it  is  a  man's  dress  I  suppose,  is  it  not  ? " 

"Why  any  more  than  a  woman's  ?  "  she  answered  rather 
blankly.  "  Ah,  yes,  I  actually  forgot  for  a  moment  whom  I 
was  talking  to.  I  see ;  so  it  was  considered  a  man's  dress  in 
your  day,  when  the  women  masqueraded  as  mermaids.  You 
may  think  me  stupid  not  to  catch  your  idea  more  quickly, 
but  I  told  you  I  was  dull  at  history.  It  is  now  two  full  geu- 
erations  since  women  as  well  as  men  have  worn  this  dress, 
and  the  idea  of  associating  it  with  men  more  than  women 
would  occur  to  no  one  but  a  professor  of  history.  It  strikes 
us  merely  as  the  only  natural  and  convenient  solution  of 
the  dress  necessity,  which  is  essentially  the  same  for  both 
sexes,  since  their  bodily  conformation  is  on  the  same  general 
lines." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A  STRING   OF   SURPRISES. 

The  extremely  delicate  tints  of  Edith's  costume  led  me 
to  remark  that  the  color  effects  of  the  modern  dress  seemed 
to  be  in  general  very  light  as  compared  with  those  which 
prevailed  in  my  day. 

"  The  result,"  I  said,  "  is  extremely  pleasing,  but  if  you 
will  excuse  a  rather  prosaic  suggestion,  it  occurs  to  me  that 
with  the  whole  nation  given  over  to  wearing  these  delicate 
schemes  of  color,  the  accounts  for  washing  must  be  pretty 
large.    I  should  suppose   they  would  swamp  the  national 


A  STRING  OF  SURPRISES.  49 

treasury  if  laundry  bills  are  anytliing  like  what  they  used 
to'he." 

This  remark,  which  I  thoug-ht  a  very  sensible  one,  set 
Edith  to  laughing-.  ''  Doubtless  we  could  not  do  much  else 
if  we  washed  our  clothes,"  she  said ;  ''  but  you  see  we  do  not 
wash  them." 

"  Not  wash  them  ! — why  not  ? " 

"  Because  we  don't  think  it  nice  to  wear  clothes  again 
after  they  have  been  so  much  soiled  as  to  need  washing." 

''Well,  I  won't  say  that  I  am  surprised,"  I  replied  ;  "in 
fact,  I  think  I  am  no  longer  capable  of  being  surprised  at 
anything ;  but  perhaps  you  will  kindly  tell  me  what  you  do 
with  a  dress  when  it  becomes  soiled." 

"We  throw  it  away — that  is,  it  goes  back  to  the  mills  to 
be  made  into  something  else." 

"  Indeed  !  To  my  nineteenth-century  intellect,  throwing 
away  clothing  would  seem  even  more  expensive  than  wash- 
ing it." 

"  Oh,  no,  much  less  so.  Wliat  do  you  suppose,  now,  this 
costume  of  mine  cost,? " 

"  I  don't  know,  I  am  sure.  I  never  had  a  wife  to  pay 
dressmaker's  bills  for,  but  I  should  say  certainly  it  cost  a 
great  deal  of  money." 

"Such  costumes  cost  from  ten  to  twenty  cents,"  said 
Edith.     "  What  do  you  suppose  it  is  made  of  ?  " 

I  took  the  edge  of  her  mantle  between  my  fingers. 

"  I  thought  it  was  silk  or  fine  linen,"  I  replied,  "  but  I  see 
it  is  not.     Doubtless  it  is  some  new  fiber." 

"  We  have  discovered  many,  new  fibers,  but  it  is  rather  a 
question  of  process  than  material  that  I  had  in  mind.  This 
is  not  a  textile  fabric  at  all,  but  paper.  That  is  the  most 
common  material  for  garments  nowadays." 

"  But— but,"  I  exclaimed,  "  what  if  it  should  come  on  to 
rain  on  these  paper  clothes  ?  Would  they  not  melt,  and 
at  a  little  strain  would  they  not  part  ?  " 

"A  costume  such  as  this,"  said  Edith,  "is  not  meant  for 
stormy  weather,  and  yet  it  would  by  no  means  melt  in  a 
rainstorm,  however  severe.  For  storm -garments  we  have  a 
paper  that  is  absolutely  impervious  to  moisture  on  the  outer 
surface.    As  to  toughness,  I  think  you  would  find  it  as  hard 


50  EQUALITY. 

to  tear  this  paper  as  any  ordinary  cloth.     The  fabric  is 
so  strengthened  with  fiber  as  to  hold  together  very  stout- 

ly-" 

"  But  in  winter,  at  least,  when  you  need  w^armth,  you 
must  have  to  fall  back  on  our  old  friend  the  sheep." 

"  You  mean  garments  made  of  sheep's  hair  ?  Oh,  no, 
there  is  no  modern  use  for  them.  Porous  paper  makes  a  gar- 
ment quite  as  warm  as  woolen  could,  and  vastly  lighter  than 
the  clothes  you  had.  Nothing  but  eider  down  could  have 
been  at  once  so  warm  and  light  as  our  winter  coats  of 
paper." 

"  And  cotton  ! — linen  !  Don't  tell  me  that  they  have  been 
given  up,  like  w^ool  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  ;  w^e  weave  fabrics  of  these  and  other  vegetable 
products,  and  they  are  nearly  as  cheap  as  paper,  but  paper 
is  so  much  lighter  and  more  easily  fashioned  into  all  shapes 
that  it  is  generally  preferred  for  garments.  But,  at  any 
rate,  we  should  consider  no  material  fit  for  garments  which 
could  not  be  throw^n  away  after  being  soiled.  The  idea  of 
washing  and  cleaning  articles  of  bodily  use  and  using  them 
over  and  over  again  would  be  quite  intolerable.  For  this 
reason,  while  we  want  beautiful  garments,  we  distinctly  do 
not  want  durable  ones.  In  your  day,  it  seems,  even  worse 
than  the  practice  of  washing  garments  to  be  used  again  you 
were  in  the  habit  of  keeping  your  outer  garments  without 
washing  at  all,  not  only  day  after  day,  but  week  after  w^eek, 
year  after  year,  sometimes  whole  lifetimes,  wiien  they  were 
specially  valuable,  and  finally,  perhaps,  giving  them  aAvay 
to  others.  It  seems  that  women  sometimes  kept  their  wed- 
ding dresses  long  enough  for  their  daughters  to  w^ear  at  their 
weddings.  That  w^ould  seem  shocking  to  us,  and  yet,  even 
your  fine  ladies  did  such  things.  As  for  w^hat  the  poor  had 
to  do  in  the  way  of  keeping  and  wearing  their  old  clothes 
till  they  went  to  rags,  that  is  something  w^hich  won't  bear 
thinking  of." 

"It  is  rather  startling,"  I  said,  "to  find  the  problem  of 
clean  clothing  solved  by  the  abolition  of  the  washtub,  al- 
though I  perceive  that  that  was  the  only  radical  solution. 
'  Warranted  to  wear  and  wash  '  used  to  be  the  advertisement 
of  our  clothing  merchants,  but  now  it  seems,  if  you  would 


A  STRING  OF  SURPRISES.  51 

sell  clothing,  you  must  warrant  the  goods  neither  to  wear 
nor  to  wash." 

"As  for  wearing,"  said  Edith,  "our  clothing  never  gets 
the  chance  to  sliow  how  it  would  wear  before  we  throw  it 
away,  any  more  than  the  other  fabrics,  such  as  carpets,  bed- 
ding, and  hangings  that  we  use  about  our  houses." 

"  You  don't  mean  that  they  are  paper-made  also !"  I  ex- 
claimed. 

"  Not  always  made  of  paper,  but  always  of  some  fabric 
so  cheap  that  they  can  be  rejected  after  the  briefest  period 
of  using.  When  you  would  have  swept  a  carpet  we  put  in 
a  new  one.  Where  you  would  wash  or  air  bedding  we  re- 
new it,  and  so  with  all  the  hangings  about  our  houses  so  far 
as  we  use  them  at  all.  We  upholster  with  air  or  water  in- 
stead of  feathers.  It  is  more  than  I  can  understand  how 
you  ever  endured  your  musty,  fusty,  dusty  rooms  with  the 
filth  and  disease  germs  of  whole  generations  stored  in  the 
woolen  and  hair  fabrics  that  furnished  them.  When  we 
clean  out  a  room  we  turn  the  hose  on  ceiling,  walls,  and 
floor.  There  is  nothing  to  harm — nothing  but  tiled  or  other 
hard -finished  surfaces.  Our  hygienists  say  that  the  change 
in  customs  in  these  matters  relating  to  the  purity  of 
our  clothing  and  dwellings,  has  done  more  than  all  our 
other  improvements  to  eradicate  the  germs  of  conta- 
gious and  other  diseases  and  relegate  epidemics  to  ancient 
history. 

"Talking  of  paper,"  said  Edith,  extending  a  very  trim 
foot  by  way  of  attracting  attention  to  its  gear,  "  what  do 
you  think  of  our  modern  shoes  ? " 

"  Do  you  mean  that  they  also  are  made  of  paper  ?  "  I  ex- 
claimed. 

"  Of  course." 

"I  noticed  the  shoes  your  father  gave  me  were  very 
light  as  compared  with  anything  I  had  ever  worn  before. 
Eeally  that  is  a  great  idea,  for  lightness  in  foot  wear  is  the 
first  necessity.  Scamp  shoemakers  used  to  put  paper  soles 
in  shoes  in  my  day.  It  is  evident  that  instead  of  pi^osecut- 
ing  them  for  rascals  we  should  have  revered  them  as  uncon- 
scious prophets.  But,  for  that  matter,  how  do  you  prepare 
soles  of  paper  that  will  last  ?" 


52  EQUALITY. 

*'  There  are  plenty  of  solutions  which  will  make  paper  as 
hard  as  iron," 

"  And  do  not  these  shoes  leak  in  winter  ? " 

"We  have  different  kinds  for  different  weathers.  All 
are  seamless,  and  the  wet-weather  sort  are  coated  outside 
with  a  lacquer  impervious  to  moisture." 

"  That  means,  I  suppose,  that  rubbers  too  as  articles  of 
wear  have  been  sent  to  the  museum  ?  " 

"  We  use  rubber,  but  not  for  wear.  Our  waterproof  pa- 
per is  much  lighter  and  better  every  way." 

"  After  all  this  it  is  easy  to  believe  that  your  hats  and 
caps  are  also  paper-made." 

"And  so  they  are  to  a  gi^eat  extent,"  said  Edith;  "the 
heavy  headgear  that  made  your  men  bald  ours  would  not 
endure.  We  want  as  little  as  possible  on  our  heads,  and 
that  as  light  as  may  be." 

"  Go  on ! "  I  exclaimed.  "  I  supx30se  I  am  next  to  be  told 
that  the  delicious  but  mysterious  articles  of  food  which 
come  by  the  pneumatic  carrier  from  the  restaurant  or  are 
served  there  are  likewise  made  out  of  paper.  Proceed — I 
am  prepared  to  believe  it !  " 

"  Not  quite  so  bad  as  that,"  laughed  my  companion,  "  but 
really  the  next  thing  to  it,  for  the  dishes  you  eat  them  from 
are  made  of  paper.  The  crash  of  crockery  and  glass,  which 
seems  to  have  been  a  sort  of  running  accompaniment  to 
housekeeping  in  your  day,  is  no  more  heard  in  the  land. 
Our  dishes  and  kettles  for  eating  or  cooking,  when  they 
need  cleaning  are  thrown  away,  or  rather,  as  in  the  case  of 
all  these  rejected  materials  I  have  spoken  of,  sent  back  to 
the  factories  to  be  reduced  again  to  pulp  and  made  over  into 
other  forms." 

"  But  you  certainly  do  not  use  paper  kettles  ?  Fire  will 
still  burn,  I  fancy,  although  you  seem  to  have  changed 
most  of  the  other  rules  we  went  by." 

"  Fire  will  still  burn,  indeed,  but  the  electrical  heat  has 
been  adopted  for  cooking  as  well  as  for  all  other  purposes. 
We  no  longer  heat  our  vessels  from  without  but  from  with- 
in, and  the  consequence  is  that  we  do  our  cooking  in  paper 
vessels  on  wooden  stoves,  even  as  the  savages  used  to 
do  it  in  birch-bark  vessels  with  hot  stones,  for,  so  the  phi- 


THE  GREATEST  WONDER  YET.  63 

losophers  say,  history  repeats  itself  in  an  ever-ascending 
spiral." 

And  now  Edith  began  to  laugh  at  my  perplexed  expres- 
sion. She  declared  that  it  was  clear  my  credulity  had  been 
taxed  with  these  accounts  of  modern  novelties  about  as  far 
as  it  would  be  prudent  to  try  it  without  furnishing  some 
further  evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  statements  she  had 
made.  She  proposed  accordingly,  for  the  balance  of  the 
morning,  a  visit  to  some  of  the  great  paper-process  factories. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE   GREATEST  WONDER  YET— FASHION  DETHRONED. 

"  You  surely  can  not  form  the  slightest  idea  of  the  bodily 
ecstasy  it  gives  me  to  have  done  with  that  horrible  mas- 
querade in  mummy  clothes,"  exclaimed  my  companion  as 
we  left  the  house.  "  To  think  this  is  the  first  time  we  have 
actually  been  walking  together  ! " 

"  Surely  you  forget,"  I  replied ;  "  we  have  been  out  to- 
gether several  times." 

"  Out  together,  yes,  but  not  walking,"  she  answered  ;  "  at 
least  I  was  not  walking.  I  don't  know  what  would  be  the 
proper  zoological  term  to  describe  the  way  I  got  over  the 
ground  inside  of  those  bags,  but  it  certainly  was  not  walk- 
ing. The  women  of  your  day,  you  see,  were  trained  from 
childhood  in  that  mode  of  progression,  and  no  doubt  ac- 
quired some  skill  in  it ;  but  I  never  had  skirts  on  in  my 
life  except  once,  in  some  theatricals.  It  was  the  hardest 
thing  I  ever  tried,  and  I  doubt  if  I  ever  again  give  you  so 
strong  a  proof  of  my  regard.  I  am  astonished  that  you  did 
not  seem  to  notice  what  a  distressful  time  I  was  having." 

But  if,  being  accustomed,  as  I  had  been,  to  the  gait  of 
women  hampered  by  draperies,  I  had  not  observed  any- 
thing unusual  in  Edith's  walk  when  we  had  been  out  on 
previous  occasions,  the  buoyant  grace  of  her  carriage  and 
the  elastic  vigor  of  her  step  as  she  strode  now  by  my  side 
5 


54  EQUALITY. 

was  a  revelation  of  the  possibilities  of  an  athletic  compan- 
ionship which  was  not  a  little  intoxicating. 

To  describe  in  detail  what  I  saw  in  my  tour  that  day 
through  the  paper-process  factories  would  be  to  tell  an  old 
story  to  twentieth -century  readers ;  but  what  fai'  more  im- 
pressed me  than  all  the  ingenuity  and  variety  of  mechan= 
ical  adaptations  was  the  workers  themselves  and  the  con- 
ditions of  their  labor.  I  need  not  tell  my  readers  what 
the  great  mills  are  in  these  days — lofty,  airy  halls,  walled 
with  beautiful  designs  in  tiles  and  metal,  furnished  like 
palaces,  with  every  convenience,  the  machinery  running  al- 
most noiselessly,  and  every  incident  of  the  work  that  might 
be  offensive  to  any  sense  reduced  by  ingenious  devices  to 
the  minimum.  Neither  need  I  describe  to  you  the  princely 
workers  in  these  palaces  of  industry,  the  strong  and  splen- 
did men  and  women,  with  their  refined  and  cultured  faces, 
prosecuting  with  the  enthusiasm  of  artists  their  self -chosen 
tasks  of  combining  use  and  beauty.  You  all  know  what 
your  factories  are  to-day  ;  no  doubt  you  find  them  none  too 
pleasant  or  convenient,  having  been  used  to  such  things  all 
your  lives.  No  doubt  you  even  criticise  them  in  various 
ways  as  falling  short  of  what  they  might  be,  for  such  is  hu- 
man nature ;  but  if  you  would  understand  how  they  seem 
to  me,  shut  your  eyes  a  moment  and  try  to  conceive  in 
fancy  what  our  cotton  and  woolen  and  paper  mills  were 
like  a  hundred  years  ago. 

Picture  low  rooms  roofed  with  rough  and  grimy  timbers 
and  walled  with  bare  or  whitewashed  brick.  Imagine  the 
floor  so  crammed  with  machinery  for  economy  of  space 
as  to  allow  bare  room  for  the  workers  to  writhe  about  among 
the  flying  arms  and  jaws  of  steel,  a  false  motion  meaning 
death  or  mutilation.  Imagine  the  air  space  above  filled,  in- 
stead of  air,  with  a  mixture  of  stenches  of  oil  and  filth,  un- 
washed human  bodies,  and  foul  clothing.  Conceive  a  per- 
petual clang  and  clash  of  machinery  like  the  screech  of  a 
tornado. 

But  these  were  only  the  material  conditions  of  the  scene. 
Shut  your  eyes  once  more,  that  you  may  see  what  I  would 
fain  forget  I  had  ever  seen — the  interminable  rows  of 
women,    pallid,    hollow-cheeked,   with    faces    vacant    and 


THE   GREATEST   WONDER  YET.  65 

stolid  but  for  tlie  accent  of  misery,  their  clothing  tattered, 
faded,  and  foul;  and  not  women  only,  but  multitudes  of 
little  children,  weazen-faced  and  rao:ged— children  whose 
mother's  milk  was  bai'ely  out  of  their  blood,  their  bones  yet 
in  the  gristle. 

Edith  introduced  me  to  the  superintendent  of  one  of  the 
factories,  a  handsome  woman  of  perhaps  forty  years.  She 
very  kindly  showed  us  about  and  explained  matters  to  me, 
and  was  much  interested  in  turn  to  know  what  I  thought 
of  the  modern  factories  and  their  points  of  contrast  with 
those  of  former  days.  Naturally,  I  told  her  that  I  had  been 
impressed,  far  more  than  by  anything  in  the  new  mechanical 
appliances,  with  the  transformation  in  the  condition  of  the 
workers  themselves. 

"Ah,  yes,"  she  said,  "of  course  you  would  say  so;  that 
must  indeed  be  the  great  contrast,  though  the  present  ways 
seem  so  entirely  a  matter  of  course  to  us  that  we  forget  it 
was  not  always  so.  When  the  workers  settle  how  the  work 
shall  be  done,  it  is  not  wonderful  that  the  conditions  should 
be  the  pleasantest  possible.  On  the  other  hand,  when,  as  in 
yom'  day,  a  class  like  your  private  capitalists,  who  did  not 
share  the  work,  nevertheless  settled  how  it  should  be  done, 
it  is  not  surprising  that  the  conditions  of  industry  should 
have  been  as  barbarous  as  they  were,  especially  when  the 
operation  of  the  competitive  system  compelled  the  capi- 
talists to  get  the  most  work  possible  out  of  the  workers  on 
the  cheapest  terms." 

"  Do  I  understand,"  I  asked,  "  that  the  workers  in  each 
trade  regulate  for  themselves  the  conditions  of  their  par- 
ticular occuiDation  ?  " 

"  By  no  means.  The  unitary  character  of  our  industrial 
administration  is  the  vital  idea  of  it,  without  which  it  would 
instantly  become  impracticable.  If  the  members  of  each 
trade  controlled  its  conditions,  they  would  presently  be 
tempted  to  conduct  it  selfishly  and  adversely  to  the  general 
interest  of  the  community,  seeking,  as  your  i^rivate  capi- 
talists did,  to  get  as  much  and  give  as  little  as  possible. 
And  not  only  would  every  distinctive  class  of  workers  be 
tempted  to  act  in  this  manner,  but  every  subdivision  of 


56  EQUALITY. 

•workers  in  the  same  trade  would  presently  be  pursuing-  the 
same  policy,  until  the  whole  industrial  system  would  be- 
come disintegrated,  and  we  should  have  to  call  the  capi- 
talists from  their  graves  to  save  us.  When  I  said  that  the 
workers  regulated  the  conditions  of  work,  I  meant  the 
workers  as  a  whole — that  is,  the  people  at  large,  all  of 
whom  are  nowadays  workers,  you  know.  The  regulation 
and  mutual  adjustment  of  the  conditions  of  the  several 
branches  of  the  industrial  system  are  Avholly  done  by  the 
General  Government.  At  the  same  time,  however,  the  regu- 
lation of  the  conditions  of  work  in  any  occupation  is  effect- 
ively, though  indirectly,  controlled  by  the  workers  in  it 
through  the  right  we  all  have  to  choose  and  change  our  oc- 
cupations. Nobody  would  choose  an  occuxDation  the  condi- 
tions of  which  were  not  satisfactory,  so  they  have  to  be 
made  and  kept  satisfactory." 

While  we  were  at  the  factory  the  noon  hour  came,  and  I 
asked  the  superintendent  and  Edith  to  go  out  to  lunch  with 
me.  In  fact,  I  wanted  to  ascertain  whether  my  newly  ac- 
quired credit  card  was  really  good  for  anything  or  not. 

"There  is  one  point  about  your  modern  costumes,"  I 
said,  as  we  sat  at  our  table  in  the  dining  hall,  "  about  which 
I  am  rather  curious.  Will  you  tell  me  who  or  what  sets  the 
fashions  ? " 

"The  Creator  sets  the  only  fashion  which  is  now  gen- 
erally followed,"  Edith  answered. 

"  And  what  is  that  ? " 

"  The  fashion  of  our  bodies,"  she  answered. 

"Ah,  yes,  very  good,"  I  replied,  "and  very  true,  too,  of 
your  costumes,  as  it  certainly  was  not  of  ours ;  but  my  ques- 
tion still  remains.  Allowing  that  you  have  a  general  theory 
of  dress,  there  are  a  thousand  differences  in  details,  with  pos- 
sible variations  of  style,  shape,  color,  material,  and  what  not. 
Now,  the  making  of  garments  is  carried  on,  I  suppose,  like 
all  your  other  industries,  as  public  business,  under  collective 
management,  is  it  not  ? " 

"  Certainly.  People,  of  course,  can  make  their  own 
clothes  if  they  wish  to,  just  as  they  can  make  anything 
else,  but  it  would  be  a  great  waste  of  time  and  energy." 


THE  GREATEST  WONDER   YET.  57 

"Very  well.  The  garments  turned  out  by  the  factories 
have  to  be  made  up  on  some  particular  design  or  designs.  In 
my  day  the  question  of  designs  of  garments  was  settled  by 
society  leaders,  fashion  journals,  edicts  from  Paris,  or  the 
Lord  know-s  how ;  but  at  any  rate  the  question  was  settled 
for  us,  and  w^e  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  obey.  I  don't  say 
it  was  a  good  way;  on  the  contrary,  it  was  detestable;  but 
what  I  wsint  to  know  is.  What  system  have  you  instead,  for 
I  suppose  you  have  now  no  society  leaders,  fashion  jour- 
nals, or  Paris  edicts  ?  Who  settles  the  question  what  you 
shall  wear  ? " 

''  We  do,"  replied  the  superintendent. 
''You  mean,  I  suppose,  that  you  determine  it  collectively 
by  democratic  methods.  Now,  w^hen  I  look  around  me  in 
this  dining  hall  and  see  the  variety  and  beauty  of  the  cos- 
tumes, I  am  bound  to  say  that  the  result  of  your  system 
seems  satisfactory,  and  yet  I  think  it  would  strike  even  the 
strongest  believer  in  the  principle  of  democracy  that  the 
rule  of  the  majority  ought  scarcely  to  extend  to  dress.  I  ad- 
mit that  the  yoke  of  fashion  w-hich  w^e  bowed  to  was  very 
onerous,  and  yet  it  w^as  true  that  if  w^e  were  brave  enough, 
as  few  indeed  were,  we  might  defy  it ;  but  with  the  style  of 
dress  determined  by  the  administration,  and  only  certain 
styles  made,  you  must  either  follow  the  taste  of  the  majority 
or  lie  abed.     Why  do  you  laugh  ?    Is  it  not  so?" 

''We  were  smiling,"  replied  the  superintendent,  "on  ac- 
count of  a  slight  misapprehension  on  your  part.  When  I 
said  that  we  regulated  questions  of  dress,  I  meant  that  we 
regulated  them  not  collectively,  by  majority,  but  individ- 
uallv.  each  for  himself  or  herself." 

"But  I  don't  see  how  you  can,"  I  persisted.  "The  busi= 
ness  of  producing  fabrics  and  of  making  them  into  gar- 
ments is  carried  on  by  the  Government.  Does  not  that 
imply,  practically,  a  governmental  control  or  niitiative  m 
fashions  of  dress  ? "  ^        . 

"  Dear  me,  no  1 "  exclaimed  the  superintendent.  It  is 
evident,  Mr.  West,  as  indeed  the  histories  say,  that  govern- 
mental action  carried  with  it  in  your  day  an  arbitrary 
implication  which  it  does  not  now.  The  Government  is 
actually  now  what  it  nominally  was  in  the  America  of  your 


58  EQUALITY. 

day — the  servant,  tool,  and  instrument  by  which  the  people 
give  effect  to  their  will,  itself  being  without  will.  The  popu- 
lar will  is  expressed  in  two  ways,  which  are  quite  distinct 
and  relate  to  different  j^rovinces :  First,  collectively,  by  ma- 
jority, in  regard  to  blended,  mutually  involved  interests, 
such  as  the  large  economic  and  political  concerns  of  the 
community ;  second,  personally,  by  each  individual  for  him- 
self or  herself  in  the  furtherance  of  private  and  self-regarding 
matters.  The  Government  is  not  more  absolutely  the  serv- 
ant of  the  collective  will  in  regard  to  the  blended  interests 
of  the  community  than  it  is  of  the  individual  convenience 
in  personal  matters.  It  is  at  once  the  august  representative 
of  all  in  general  concerns,  and  everybody's  agent,  errand 
boy,  and  factotum  for  all  private  ends.  Nothing  is  too  high 
or  too  low,  too  great  or  too  little,  for  it  to  do  for  us. 

"The  dressmaking  department  holds  its  vast  pro\asion 
of  fabrics  and  machinery  at  the  absolute  disposition  of  the 
whims  of  every  man  or  woman  in  the  nation.  You  can  go 
to  one  of  the  stores  and  order  any  costume  of  which  a  his- 
torical description  exists,  from  the  days  of  Eve  to  yesterday, 
or  you  can  furnish  a  design  of  your  own  invention  for  a 
brand-new  costume,  designating  any  material  at  present  ex- 
isting, and  it  will  be  sent  home  to  you  in  less  time  than  any 
nineteenth-century  dressmaker  ever  even  promised  to  fill  an 
order.  Really,  talking  of  this,  I  want  you  to  see  our  garment- 
making  machines  in  operation.  Our  paper  garments,  of 
course,  are  seamless,  and  made  wholly  by  machinery.  The 
apparatus  being  adjustable  to  any  measure,  you  can  have  a 
costume  turned  out  for  you  complete  while  you  are  looking 
over  the  machine.  There  are,  of  course,  some  general  styles 
and  shapes  that  are  usually  i)oi3ular,  and  the  stores  keep  a 
supply  of  them  on  hand,  but  that  is  for  the  convenience  of 
the  people,  not  of  the  department,  which  holds  itself  always 
ready  to  follow  the  initiative  of  any  citizen  and  provide 
anything  ordered  in  the  least  possible  time." 

'•  Then  anybody  can  set  the  fashion  ? "  I  said. 

"  Anybody  can  set  it,  but  whether  it  is  followed  depends 
on  whether  it  is  a  good  one,  and  really  has  some  new  point 
in  respect  of  convenience  or  beauty ;  otherwise  it  certainly 
will  not  become  a  fashion.     Its  vogue  will  be  precisely  pro- 


THE  GREATEST  WONDER  YET.  59 

portioned  to  the  merit  the  popular  taste  recognizes  in  it,  just 
as  if  it  were  an  invention  in  mechanics.  If  a  new  idea  in 
dress  has  any  merit  in  it,  it  is  taken  up  with  great  prompt- 
ness, for  our  people  are  extremely  interested  in  enhancing 
personal  beauty  by  costume,  and  the  absence  of  any  arbi- 
trary standards  of  style  such  as  fashion  set  for  you  leaves 
us  on  the  alert  for  attractions  and  novelties  in  shape  and 
color.  It  is  in  variety  of  effect  that  our  mode  of  dressing 
seems  indeed  to  differ  most  from  yours.  Your  styles  were 
constantly  being  varied  by  the  edicts  of  fashion,  but  as  only 
one  style  was  tolerated  at  a  time,  you  had  only  a  successive 
and  not  a  simultaneous  variety,  such  as  we  have.  I  should 
imagine  that  this  uniformity  of  style,  extending,  as  I  under- 
stand it  often  did,  to  fabric,  color,  and  shape  alike,  must 
have  caused  your  great  assemblages  to  present  a  depressing 
effect  of  sameness." 

"  That  was  a  fact  fully  admitted  in  my  day,"  I  replied. 
"The  artists  were  the  enemies  of  fashion,  as  indeed  all 
sensible  people  w^ere,  but  resistance  was  in  vain.  Do  you 
know,  if  I  were  to  return  to  the  nineteenth  century,  there 
is  perhaps  nothing  else  I  could  tell  my  contemporaries  of 
the  changes  you  have  made  that  would  so  deeply  impress 
them  as  the  information  that  you  had  broken  the  scepter  of 
fashion,  that  there  were  no  longer  any  arbitrary  standards 
in  dress  recognized,  and  that  no  style  had  any  other  vogue 
than  might  be  given  it  by  individual  recognition  of  its 
merits.  That  most  of  the  other  yokes  humanity  wore  might 
some  day  be  broken,  the  more  hopeful  of  us  believed,  but 
the  yoke  of  fashion  we  never  expected  to  be  freed  from,  un- 
less perhaps  in  heaven." 

"  The  reign  of  fashion,  as  the  history  books  call  it,  always 
seemed  to  me  one  of  the  most  utterly  incomprehensible 
things  about  the  old  order,"  said  Edith.  "  It  would  seem 
that  it  must  have  had  some  great  force  behind  it  to  compel 
such  abject  submission  to  a  rule  so  tyrannical.  And  yet 
there  seems  to  have  been  no  force  at  all  used.  Do  tell  us 
what  the  secret  was,  Julian  ? " 

"  Don't  ask  me,"  I  protested.  "  It  seemed  to  be  some  fell 
enchantment  that  we  were  subject  to — that  is  all  I  know. 
Nobody  professed   to  understand  why  we  did  as  we  did. 


60  EQUALITY. 

Can't  you  tell  us,"  I  added,  turning  to  the  superintendent — 
"  how  do  you  moderns  diagnose  the  fashion  mania  that 
made  our  lives  such  a  burden  to  us  ? " 

"  Since  you  appeal  to  me,"  replied  our  companion,  "  I 
may  say  that  the  historians  explain  the  dominion  of  fashion 
in  your  age  as  the  natural  result  of  a  disparity  of  economic 
conditions  prevailing  in  a  community  in  which  rigid  dis- 
tinctions of  caste  had  ceased  to  exist.  It  resulted  from  two 
factors  :  the  desire  of  the  common  herd  to  imitate  the  supe- 
rior class,  and  the  desire  of  the  superior  class  to  protect  them- 
selves from  that  imitation  and  preserve  distinction  of  ap- 
pearance. In  times  and  countries  where  class  was  caste, 
and  fixed  by  law  or  iron  custom,  each  caste  had  its  distinct- 
ive dress,  to  imitate  which  was  not  allowed  to  another  class. 
Consequently  fashions  were  stationary.  With  the  rise  of 
democracy,  the  legal  protection  of  class  distinctions  was 
abolished,  while  the  actual  disparity  in  social  ranks  still  ex- 
isted, owing  to  the  persistence  of  economic  inequalities.  It 
was  now  free  for  all  to  imitate  the  superior  class,  and  thus 
seem  at  least  to  be  as  good  as  it,  and  no  kind  of  imitation 
was  so  natural  and  easy  as  dress.  First,  the  socially  ambi- 
tious led  off  in  this  imitation  ;  then  presently  the  less  preten- 
tious were  constrained  to  follow  their  example,  to  avoid  an 
apparent  confession  of  social  inferiority ;  till,  finally,  even 
the  philosophers  had  to  follow  the  herd  and  conform  to  the 
fashion,  to  avoid  being  conspicuous  by  an  exceptional  ap- 
pearance." 

"  I  can  see,"  said  Edith,  "  how  social  emulation  should 
make  the  masses  imitate  the  richer  and  superior  class,  and 
how  the  fashions  should  in  this  way  be  set ;  but  why  were 
they  changed  so  often,  when  it  must  have  been  so  terribly 
expensive  and  troublesome  to  make  the  changes  ?  " 

"For  the  reason,"  answered  the  superintendent,  "that 
the  only  way  the  sujDerior  class  could  escape  their  imitators 
and  preserve  their  distinction  in  dress  was  by  adopting  con- 
stantly new  fashions,  only  to  drop  them  for  still  newer  ones 
as  soon  as  they  were  imitated. — Does  it  seem  to  you,  Mr. 
West,  that  this  explanation  corresponds  with  the  facts  as  you 
observed  them  ? " 

"  Entirely  so,"  I  replied.     "  It  might  be  added,  too,  that 


THE   GREATEST  WONDER  YET.  61 

the  changes  in  fashions  were  greatly  fomented  and  assisted 
by  the  self-interest  of  vast  industrial  and  commercial  inter- 
ests engaged  in  purveying  the  materials  of  dress  and  per- 
sonal belongings.  Every  change,  by  creating  a  demand  for 
new  materials  and  rendering  those  in  use  obsolete,  was  what 
we  called  good  for  trade,  though  if  tradesmen  were  unlucky 
enough  to  be  caught  by  a  sudden  change  of  fashion  with  a 
lot  of  goods  on  hand  it  meant  ruin  to  them.  Great  losses 
of  this  sort,  indeed,  attended  every  change  in  fashion.'' 

"  But  we  read  that  there  were  fashions  in  many  things 
besides  dress,"  said  Edith. 

"Certainly,"  said  the  superintendent.  "Dress  was  the 
stronghold  and  main  province  of  fashion  because  imitation 
was  easiest  and  most  effective  through  dress,  but  in  nearly 
everything  that  pertained  to  the  habits  of  living,  eating, 
drinking,  recreation,  to  houses,  furniture,  horses  and  car- 
riages, and  servants,  to  the  manner  of  bowing  even,  and 
shaking  hands,  to  the  mode  of  eating  food  and  taking  tea, 
and  I  don't  know  what  else — there  were  fashions  which 
must  be  followed,  and  were  changed  as  soon  as  they  were 
followed.  It  was  indeed  a  sad,  fantastic  ra^^e,  and  Mr. 
West's  contemporaries  appear  to  have  fully  realized  it ;  but 
as  long  as  society  was  made  up  of  unequals  with  no  caste 
barriers  to  prevent  imitation,  the  inferiors  were  bound  to 
ape  the  superiors,  and  the  superiors  were  bound  to  baffle 
imitation,  so  far  as  possible,  by  seeking  ever-fresh  devices 
for  expressing  their  superiority." 

"In  short,"  I  said,  "our  tedious  sameness  in  dress  and 
manners  appears  to  you  to  have  been  the  logical  result  of 
our  lack  of  equality  in  conditions." 

"Precisely  so,"  answered  the  superintendent.  "Because 
you  w^ere  not  equal,  you  made  yourself  miserable  and  ugly 
in  the  attempt  to  seem  so.  The  aesthetic  equivalent  of  the 
moral  wrong  of  inequality  was  the  artistic  abomination  of 
uniformity.  On  the  other  hand,  equality  creates  an  atmos- 
phere which  kills  imitation,  and  is  pregnant  with  originality, 
for  every  one  acts  out  himself,  having  nothing  to  gain  by 
imitating  any  one  else." 


62  EQUALITY. 

CHAPTER  IX 

SOMETHING  THAT  HAD   NOT   CHANGED. 

When  we  parted  with  the  superintendent  of  the  paper- 
process  factory  I  said  to  Edith  that  I  had  taken  in  since 
that  morning-  about  all  the  new  impressions  and  new  philos- 
ophies I  could  for  the  time  mentally  digest,  and  felt  great 
need  of  resting  my  mind  for  a  space  in  the  contemplation 
of  something — if  indeed  there  were  anything — which  had 
not  changed  or  been  improved  in  the  last  century. 

After  a  moment's  consideration  Edith  exclaimed  :  "  I 
have  it !    Ask  no  questions,  but  just  come  with  me." 

Presently,  as  we  were  making  our  way  along  the  route 
she  had  taken,  she  touched  my  arm,  saying,  "  Let  us  hurry 
a  little." 

Now,  hurrying-  was  the  regulation  gait  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  "  Hurry  up ! "  was  about  the  most  threadbare 
phrase  in  the  English  language,  and  rather  than  ''  E pluri- 
biis  ununi "  should  especially  have  been  the  motto  of  the 
American  people,  but  it  was  the  fu'st  time  the  note  of  haste 
had  impressed  my  consciousness  since  I  had  been  living 
twentieth-century  days.  This  fact,  together  with  the  touch 
of  my  companion  upon  my  arm  as  she  sought  to  quicken 
my  pace,  caused  me  to  look  around,  and  in  so  doing  to  pause 
abruptly. 

"  What  is  this  ? "  I  exclaimed. 

"  It  is  too  bad ! "  said  my  companion.  "  I  tried  to  get  you 
past  without  seeing  it." 

But  indeed,  though  I  had  asked  what  was  this  building 
we  stood  in  presence  of,  nobody  could  know  so  well  as  I 
what  it  was.  The  mystery  was  how  it  had  come  to  be  there 
for  in  the  midst  of  this  splendid  city  of  equals,  where  poverty 
was  an  unknown  word,  I  found  myself  face  to  face  with  a 
typical  nineteenth-century  tenement  house  of  the  worst  sort 
— one  of  the  rookeries,  in  fact,  that  used  to  abound  in  the 
North  End  and  other  parts  of  the  city.  The  environment 
was  indeed  in  strong  enough  contrast  with  that  of  such 
buildings  in  my  time,  shut  in  as  they  generally  were  by  a 
labyrinth  of   noisome   alleys  and   dark,  damp  courtyards 


SOMETHING  THAT  HAD  NOT  CHANGED.  63 

which  were  reeking  reservoirs  of  foetid  odors,  kept  in  by- 
lofty,  light-excluding-  walls.  This  building  stood  by  itself, 
in  tlie  midst  of  an  open  square,  as  if  it  had  been  a  palace 
or  other  show  i)lace.  But  all  the  more,  indeed,  by  this 
fine  setting  was  the  dismal  squalor  of  the  grimy  structure 
emphasized.  It  seemed  to  exhale  an  atmosphere  of  gloom 
and  chill  which  all  the  bright  sunshine  of  the  breezy  Sep- 
tember afternoon  was  unable  to  dominate.  One  would  not 
have  been  surprised,  even  at  noonday,  to  see  ghosts  at  the 
black  windows.  There  was  an  inscription  over  the  door, 
and  I  went  across  the  square  to  read  it,  Edith  reluctantly  fol- 
lowing me.    These  words  I  read,  above  the  central  doorway  : 

"  THIS  HABITATION  OF  CRUELTY  IS  PRESERVED  AS  A  MEMENTO 
TO   COMING   GENERATIONS   OF   THE   RULE   OF   THE    RICH." 

"This  is  one  of  the  ghost  buildings,"  said  Edith,  "  kept  to 
scare  the  people  with,  so  that  they  may  never  risk  anything 
that  looks  like  bringing  back  the  old  order  of  things  by  allow- 
ing any  one  on  any  plea  to  obtain  an  economic  advantage 
over  another.  I  think  they  had  much  better  be  torn  down, 
for  there  is  no  more  danger  of  the  world's  going  back  to  the 
old  order  than  there  is  of  the  globe  reversing  its  rotation." 

A  band  of  children,  accompanied  by  a  young  woman, 
came  across  the  square  as  we  stood  before  the  building,  and 
filed  into  the  doorway  and  up  the  black  and  narrow  stair- 
way. The  faces  of  the  little  ones  were  very  serious,  and 
they  spoke  in  whispers. 

"They  are  school  children."  said  Edith.  "We  are  all 
taken  through  this  building,  or  some  other  like  it,  when  we 
are  in  the  schools,  and  the  teacher  explains  what  manner  of 
things  used  to  be  done  and  endured  there.  I  remember  well 
when  I  was  taken  through  this  building  as  a  child.  It  was 
long  afterward  before  I  quite  recovered  from  the  terrible  im- 
pression I  received.  Really,  I  don't  think  it  is  a  good  idea  to 
bring  young  children  here,  but  it  is  a  custom  that  became 
settled  in  the  period  after  the  Revolution,  when  the  horror 
of  the  bondage  they  had  escaped  from  was  yet  fresh  in  the 
minds  of  the  people,  and  their  great  fear  was  that  by  some 
lack  of  vigilance  the  rule  of  the  rich  might  be  restored. 


64  EQUALITY. 

"  Of  course,"  she  continued,  "  this  building  and  the  others 
like  it,  which  were  reserved  for  warnings  when  the  rest 
were  razed  to  the  ground,  have  been  thoroughly  cleaned 
and  strengthened  and  made  sanitary  and  safe  every  way, 
but  our  artists  have  very  cunningly  counterfeited  all  the 
old  effects  of  filth  and  squalor,  so  that  the  appearance  of 
everything  is  just  as  it  was.  Tablets  in  the  rooms  describe 
how  many  human  beings  used  to  be  crowded  into  them,  and 
the  horrible  conditions  of  their  lives.  The  worst  about  it  is 
that  the  facts  are  all  taken  from  historical  records,  and  are 
absolutely  true.  There  are  some  of  these  places  in  which 
the  inhabitants  of  the  buildings  as  they  used  to  swarm  in 
them  are  reproduced  in  wax  or  plaster  with  every  detail  of 
garments,  furniture,  and  all  the  other  features  based  on 
actual  records  or  pictures  of  the  time.  There  is  something 
indescribably  dreadful  in  going  through  the  buildings  fitted 
out  in  that  way.  The  dumb  figures  seem  to  appeal  to  you 
to  help  them.  It  was  so  long  ago,  and  yet  it  makes  one  feel 
conscience-stricken  not  to  be  able  to  do  anything." 

"  But,  Julian,  come  away.  It  was  just  a  stupid  accident 
my  bringing  you  past  here.  When  I  undertook  to  show 
you  something  that  had  not  changed  since  your  day,  I  did 
not  mean  to  mock  you." 

Thanks  to  modern  rapid  transit,  ten  minutes'  later  we 
stood  on  the  ocean  shore,  with  the  waves  of  the  Atlantic 
breaking  noisily  at  our  feet  and  its  blue  floor  extending  un- 
broken to  the  horizon.  Here  indeed  was  something  that 
had  not  been  changed — a  mighty  existence,  to  which  a  thou- 
sand years  were  as  one  day  and  one  day  as  a  thousand  years. 
There  could  be  no  tonic  for  my  case  like  the  inspiration  of 
this  great  presence,  this  unchanging  witness  of  all  earth's 
mutations.  How  petty  seemed  the  little  trick  of  time  that 
had  been  played  on  me  as  I  stood  in  the  presence  of  this 
symbol  of  everlastingness  which  made  past,  present,  and 
future  terms  of  little  meaning  ! 

In  accompanying  Edith  to  the  part  of  the  beach  where 
we  stood  I  had  taken  no  note  of  directions,  but  now,  as  I  be- 
gan to  study  the  shore,  I  observed  with  lively  emotion  that 
she  had  unwittingly  brought  me  to  the  site  of  my  old  sea- 
side place  at  Nahant.     The  buildings  were  indeed  gone,  and 


SOMETHING  THAT  HAD  NOT  CHANGED.     (55 

the  growth  of  trees  had  quite  changed  the  aspect  of  the 
landscape,  but  the  shore  line  remained  unaltered,  and  I  knew 
it  at  once.  Bidding  her  follow  me,  I  led  the  way  around  a 
point  to  a  little  strip  of  beach  between  the  sea  and  a  w^all  of 
rock  which  shut  olf  all  sight  or  sound  of  the  land  behind. 
In  my  former  life  the  spot  had  been  a  favorite  resort  when  I 
visited  the  shore.  Here  in  that  life  so  long  ago,  and  yet  re- 
called as  if  of  yesterday,  I  had  been  used  from  a  lad  to  go 
to  do  my  day  dreaming.  Every  feature  of  the  little  nook 
was  as  familiar  to  me  as  my  bedroom  and  all  was  quite  un- 
changed. The  sea  in  front,  the  sky  above,  the  islands  and 
the  blue  headlands  of  the  distant  coast — all,  indeed,  that 
filled  the  view  was  the  same  in  every  detail.  I  threw  my- 
self upon  the  warm  sand  by  the  margin  of  the  sea,  as  I  had 
been  w^ont  to  do,  and  in  a  moment  the  flood  of  familiar  asso- 
ciations had  so  completely  carried  me  back  to  my  old  life 
that  all  the  marvels  that  had  hapijened  to  me,  when  pres- 
ently I  began  to  recall  them,  seemed  merely  as  a  day  dream 
that  had  come  to  me  like  so  many  others  before  it  in  that 
spot  by  the  shore.  But  what  a  dream  it  had  been,  that  vision 
of  the  world  to  be ;  surely  of  all  the  dreams  that  had  come 
to  me  there  by  the  sea  the  weirdest ! 

There  had  been  a  girl  in  the  dream,  a  maiden  much  to 
be  desired.  It  had  been  ill  if  I  had  lost  her ;  but  I  had  not, 
for  this  was  she,  the  girl  in  this  strange  and  graceful  garb, 
standing  by  my  side  and  smiling  down  at  me.  I  had  by 
some  great  hap  brought  her  back  from  dreamland,  holding 
her  by  the  very  strength  of  my  love  w^hen  all  else  of  the 
vision  had  dissolved  at  the  opening  of  the  eyes. 

Why  not  ?  What  youth  has  not  often  been  visited  in  his 
dreams  by  maidenly  ideals  fairer  than  walk  on  earth,  whom, 
waking,  he  has  sighed  for  and  for  days  been  followed  by  the 
haunting  beauty  of  their  half-remembered  faces  ?  I,  more 
fortunate  than  they,  had  baffled  the  jealous  warder  at  the 
gates  of  sleep  and  brought  my  queen  of  dreamland  through. 

When  I  proceeded  to  state  to  Edith  this  theory  to  ac- 
count for  her  presence,  she  professed  to  find  it  highly  reason- 
able, and  we  proceeded  at  much  length  to  develop  the  idea. 
Falling  into  the  conceit  that  she  was  an  anticipation  of  the 
twentieth-century  woman  instead  of  my  being  an  excavated 


QQ  EQUALITY. 

relic  of  the  nineteenth-century  man,  we  speculated  what  we 
should  do  for  the  summer.  We  decided  to  visit  the  great 
pleasure  resorts,  where,  no  doubt,  she  would  under  the  circum- 
stances excite  much  curiosity  and  at  the  same  time  have  an 
opportunity  of  studying  what  to  her  twentieth-century  mind 
would  seem  even  more  astonishing  types  of  humanity  than 
she  would  seem  to  them — namely,  people  who,  surrounded 
by  a  needy  and  anguished  world,  could  get  their  own  con- 
sent to  be  happy  in  a  frivolous  and  wasteful  idleness.  After- 
ward we  would  go  to  Europe  and  inspect  such  things  there 
as  might  naturally  be  curiosities  to  a  girl  out  of  the  year 
2000,  such  as  a  Rothschild,  an  emperor,  and  a  few  specimens 
of  human  beings,  some  of  which  were  at  that  time  still  ex- 
tant in  G-ermany,  Austria,  and  Russia,  who  honestly  believed 
that  God  had  given  to  certain  fellow-beings  a  divine  title  to 
reign  over  them. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  MIDNIGHT   PLUNGE. 

It  was  after  dark  when  we  reached  home,  and  several 
hours  later  before  we  had  made  an  end  of  telling  our  adven- 
tures. Indeed,  my  hosts  seemed  at  all  times  unable  to  hear 
too  much  of  my  impressions  of  modern  things,  appearing  to 
be  as  much  interested  in  what  I  thought  of  them  as  I  was 
in  the  things  themselves. 

"  It  is  really,  you  see,"  Edith's  mother  had  said,  "  the 
manifestation  of  vanity  on  our  part.  You  are  a  sort  of  look- 
ing-glass to  us,  in  which  we  can  see  how  we  appear  from  a 
different  point  of  view  from  our  own.  If  it  were  not  for 
you,  we  should  never  have  realized  what  remarkable  people 
we  are,  for  to  one  another,  I  assure  you,  we  seem  very 
ordinary." 

To  which  I  replied  that  in  talking  with  them  I  got  the 
same  looking-glass  effect  as  to  myself  and  my  contempora- 
ries, but  that  it  Avas  one  which  by  no  means  ministered  to 
my  vanity. 

When,  as  we  talked,  the  globe  of  the  color  clock  turning 


A  MIDNIGHT   PLUNGE.  67 

white  announced  that  it  was  midnight,  some  one  spoke  of 

bed,  but  tlie  doctor  luid  another  sclieme.  ,•,.,„ 

"  I  propose,"  said  lie,  "  by  way  of  preparing  a  good  night  s 

rest  for  us  all,  that  we  go  over  to  the  natatorium  and  take  a 

^^""  Are  there  any  public  baths  open  so  late  as  this  2 "  I 
said.      "In  my  day  everything   was  shut  up  long  before 

"""Then  and  there  the  doctor  gave  me  the  information 
which  matter  of  course  as  it  is  to  twentieth-century  readers, 
was  surprising  enough  to  me,  that  no  public  service  or  con- 
venience is  ever  suspended  at  the  present  day  whether  by 
day  or  night,  the  year  round ;  and  that,  although  the  serv.ce 
provided  varies  in  extent,  according  to  the  demand,  it  never 

varies  in  quality. 

"  It  seems  to  us,"  said  the  doctor,  "  that  among  the  mmor 
inconveniences  of  life  in  your  day  none  ^^^  ^\  ^^\^  f  ?;^ 
more  vexing  than  the  recurrent  mterruption  of  all,  oi  of  he 
larger  part  of  all,  public  services  every  night.  Most  ot  the 
people,  of  course,  are  asleep  then,  but  always  a  portion  of 
them  have  occasion  to  be  awake  and  about,  and  all  of  us 
sometimes,  and  we  should  consider  it  a  very  lame  pub  he 
service  that  did  not  provide  for  the  night  workers  as  good  a 
service  as  for  the  day  workers.  Of  course,  you  could  not  do 
it,  lacking  any  unitary  industrial  organization  but  it  is  very 
easy  with  us.  We  have  day  and  night  shifts  for  all  ^  the 
public  services-the  latter,  of  course,  much  the  smaller. 
-How  about    public    holidays;    have    you    abandoned 

them?"  ,,.     ,    ^., 

"  Pretty  generally.  The  occasional  public  holidays  in 
vour  time  were  prized  by  the  people,  as  giving  them  much- 
needed  breathing  spaces.  Nowadays,  when  the  working  day 
is  so  short  and  the  working  year  so  interspersed  with  ample 
vacations,  the  old-fashioned  holiday  has  ceased  to  serve  any 
purpose,  and  would  be  regarded  as  a  nuisance.^  We  prefer 
to  choose  and  use  our  leisure  time  as  we  please." 

It  was  to  the  Leander  Natatorium  that  we  had  directed 
our  steps.  As  I  need  not  remind  Bostonians,  this  is  one  of 
the  older  baths,  and  considered  quite  inferior  to  the  modern 
structures.    To  me,  however,  it  was  a  vastly  impressive  spec- 


68  EQUALITY. 

tacle.  The  lofty  interior  g-lowing  witli  light,  the  immense 
swimming  tank,  the  four  great  fountains  filling  the  air  with 
diamond-dazzle  and  the  noise  of  falling  water,  together  with 
the  throng  of  gSiylj  dressed  and  laughing  bathers,  made  an 
exhilarating  and  magnificent  scene,  which  was  a  very  ef- 
fective introduction  to  the  athletic  side  of  the  modern  life. 
The  loveliest  thing  of  all  was  the  great  expanse  of  water 
made  translucent  by  the  light  reflected  from  the  white  tiled 
bottom,  so  that  the  swimmers,  their  whole  bodies  visible, 
seemed  as  if  floating  on  a  pale  emerald  cloud,  with  an  effect 
of  buoyancy  and  weightlessness  that  was  as  startling  as 
charming.  Edith  w^as  quick  to  tell  me,  however,  that  this 
was  as  nothing  to  the  beauty  of  some  of  the  new  and  larger 
baths,  w^here,  by  varying  the  colors  of  the  tiling  at  the  bottom, 
the  water  is  made  to  shade  through  all  the  tints  of  the  rain- 
bow while  preserving  the  same  translucent  appearance. 

I  had  formed  an  impression  that  the  water  w^ould  be 
fresh,  but  the  green  hue,  of  course,  showed  it  to  be  from 
the  sea. 

"  We  have  a  poor  opinion  of  fresh  water  for  swimming 
w^hen  w^e  can  get  salt,"  said  the  doctor.  "  This  water  came 
in  on  the  last  tide  from  the  Atlantic." 

"  But  how  do  you  get  it  up  to  this  level  ? " 

"We  make  it  carry  itself  up,"  laughed  the  doctor;  "it- 
would  be  a  pity  if  the  tidal  force  that  raises  the  whole  har- 
bor fully  seven  feet,  could  not  raise  what  little  we  want  a 
bit  higher.  Don't  look  at  it  so  suspiciously,"  he  added. 
"  I  know  that  Boston  Harbor  water  w^as  far  from  being  clean 
enough  for  bathing  in  your  day,  but  all  that  is  changed. 
Your  sewerage  systems,  remember,  are  forgotten  abomina- 
tions, and  nothing  that  can  defile  is  allowed  to  reach  sea  or 
river  nowadays.  For  that  reason  we  can  and  do  use  sea 
Avater,  not  only  for  all  the  public  baths,  but  provide  it 
as  a  distinct  service  for  our  home  baths  and  also  for  all  the 
public  fountains,  Avhich,  thus  inexhaustibly  supplied,  can  be 
kept  always  playing.     But  let  us  go  in." 

"  Certainly,  if  you  say  so,"  said  I,  wdth  a  shiver,  "  but  are 
you  sure  that  it  is  not  a  trifle  cool  ?  Ocean  water  was  thought 
by  us  to  be  chilly  for  bathing  in  late  September." 

"  Did  you  think  we  were  going  to  give  you  your  death  ? " 


A  MIDNIGHT  PLUNGE.  69 

said  the  doctor.     "  Of  course,  the  water  is  warmed  to  a  com- 
fortable temperature ;  these  baths  are  open  all  winter." 

"  But,  dear  me  !  how  can  you  possibly  warm  such  great 
bodies  of  water,  Avhich  are  so  constantly  renewed,  especially 
in  winter  ? " 

"  Oh,  we  have  no  conscience  at  all  about  what  we  make 
the  tides  do  for  us,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  We  not  only  make 
them  lift  the  water  up  here,  but  heat  it,  too.  Why,  Julian, 
cold  or  hot  are  terms  without  real  meaning-,  mere  coquettish 
airs  which  Nature  puts  on,  indicating  that  she  wants  to  be 
wooed  a  little.  She  would  just  as  soon  warm  you  as  freeze 
you,  if  you  will  approach  her  rightly.  Tlie  blizzards  which 
used  to  freeze  your  generation  might  just  as  well  have  taken 
the  place  of  your  coal  mines.  You  look  incredulous,  but 
let  me  tell  you  now,  as  a  first  step  toward  the  understanding 
of  modern  conditions,  that  power,  with  all  its  applications  of 
light,  heat,  and  energy,  is  to-day  practically  exhaustless  and 
costless,  and  scarcely  enters  as  an  element  into  mechanical 
calculation.  The  uses  of  the  tides,  winds,  and  waterfalls  are 
indeed  but  crude  methods  of  drawing  on  Nature's  resources 
of  strength  compared  with  others  that  are  employed  by 
which  boundless  power  is  developed  from  natural  inequali- 
ties of  temperature." 

A  few  moments  later  I  was  enjoying  the  most  delicious 
sea  bath  that  ever  up  to  that  time  had  fallen  to  my  lot ;  the 
pleasure  of  the  pelting  under  the  fountains  was  to  me  a  new 
sensation  in  life. 

"  Youll  make  a  first-rate  twentieth-century  Bostonian," 
said  the  doctor,  laughing  at  my  delight.  "  It  is  said  that  a 
marked  feature  of  our  modern  civilization  is  that  we  are  tend- 
ing to  revert  to  the  amphibious  type  of  our  remote  ancestry ; 
evidently  you  will  not  object  to  drifting  with  the  tide." 

It  was  one  o'clock  when  we  reached  home. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Edith,  as  I  bade  her  good-night,  "  that 
in  ten  minutes  you  will  be  back  among  your  friends  of  the 
nineteenth  century  if  you  dream  as  you  did  last  night. 
What  would  I  not  give  to  take  the  journey  with  you  and 
see  for  myself  what  the  world  was  like  ! " 

"  And  I  would  give  as  much  to  be  spared  a  repetition  of 
the  experience,"  I  said,  "  unless  it  were  in  your  company." 
6 


70  EQUALITY. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  really  are  afraid  you  will  dream 
of  the  old  times  again  ?  " 

"  So  much  afraid,"  I  replied,  "that  I  have  a  good  mind 
to  sit  up  all  night  to  avoid  the  possibility  of  another  such 
nightmare." 

'  "  Dear  me !  you  need  not  do  that,"  she  said.  "  If  you 
wish  me  to,  I  will  see  that  you  are  troubled  no  more  in 
that  way." 

"  Are  you,  then,  a  magician  ?  " 

"  If  I  tell  you  not  to  dream  of  any  particular  matter,  you 
will  not,"  she  said. 

"  You  are  easily  the  mistress  of  my  waking  thoughts,"  I 
said  ;  "  but  can  you  rule  my  sleeping  mind  as  well  ?  " 

"  You  shall  see,"  she  said,  and,  fixing  her  eyes  upon 
mine,  she  said  quietly,  "  Remember,  you  are  not  to  dream 
of  anything  to-night  which  belonged  to  your  old  life !  " 
and,  as  she  spoke,  I  knew  in  my  mind  that  it  would  be  as 
she  said. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

LIFE   THE   BASIS  OF  THE   RIGHT  OF  PROPERTY. 

Among  the  pieces  of  furniture  in  the  subterranean  bed- 
chamber where  Dr.  Leete  had  found  me  sleeping  was  one  of 
the  strong  boxes  of  iron  cunningly  locked  which  in  my  time 
were  used  for  the  storage  of  money  and  valuables.  The  lo- 
cation of  this  chamber  so  far  underground,  its  solid  stone 
construction  and  heavy  doors,  had  not  only  made  it  imper- 
vious to  noise  but  equally  proof  against  thieves,  and  its  very 
existence  being,  moreover,  a  secret,  I  had  thought  that 
no  place  could  be  safer  for  keeping  the  evidences  of  my 
wealth. 

Edith  had  been  very  curious  about  the  safe,  which  was 
the  name  we  gave  to  these  strong  boxes,  and  several  times 
when  we  were  visiting  the  vault  had  expressed  a  lively  de- 
sire to  see  what  was  inside.  I  had  proposed  to  open  it  for 
her,  but  she  had  suggested  that,  as  her  father  and  mother 


LIFE  THE  BASIS  OF  THE  RIGHT  OF  PROPERTY.     71 

would  be  as  mucli  interested  in  the  process  as  herself,  it 
would  be  best  to  postpone  the  treat  till  all  should  be  present. 

As  we  sat  at  breakfast  the  day  after  tlie  experiences  nar- 
rated in  the  x^revious  chapters,  she  asked  why  that  mornini^ 
would  not  be  a  g:«_:i}  time  to  show  the  inside  of  the  safe,  and 
everybody  agreed  that  there  could  be  no  better. 

"  What  is  in  the  safe  ? "  asked  Edith's  mother. 

''When  I  last  locked  it  in  the  year  1887,"  I  replied, 
"  there  were  in  it  securities  and  evidences  of  value  of  va- 
rious sorts  representing  something  like  a  million  dollars. 
When  we  open  it  this  morning  we  shall  fuid,  thanks  to 
the  great  Revolution,  a  fine  collection  of  waste  paper. — I 
wonder,  by  the  way,  doctor,  just  what  your  judges  would 
say  if  I  were  to  take  those  securities  to  them  and  make  a 
formal  demand  to  be  reinstated  in  the  possessions  which 
they  represented  ?  Suppose  I  said  :  '  Your  Honors,  these 
properties  were  once  mine  and  I  have  never  voluntarily 
parted  with  them.  Why  are  they  not  mine  now,  and  why 
should  they  not  be  returned  to  me  ? '  You  understand,  of 
course,  that  I  have  no  desire  to  start  a  revolt  against  the 
present  order,  which  I  am  very  ready  to  admit  is  much  bet- 
ter than  the  old  arrangements,  but  I  am  quite  curious  to 
know  just  what  the  judges  would  reply  to  such  a  demand, 
provided  they  consented  to  entertain  it  seriously.  I  sup- 
pose they  would  laugh  me  out  of  court.  Still,  I  think  I 
might  argue  with  some  plausibility  that,  seeing  I  was  not 
present  when  the  Revolution  divested  us  capitalists  of  our 
wealth,  I  am  at  least  entitled  to  a  courteous  explanation  of 
the  grounds  on  which  that  course  was  justified  at  the  time. 
I  do  not  want  my  million  back,  even  if  it  were  possible  to 
return  it,  but  as  a  matter  of  rational  satisfaction  I  should 
like  to  know  on  just  what  plea  it  was  a^Dpropriated  and  is 
retained  by  the  community." 

"Really,  Julian,"  said  the  doctor,  "it  would  be  an  excel- 
lent idea  if  you  were  to  do  just  what  you  have  suggested — 
that  is,  bring  a  formal  suit  against  the  nation  for  reinstate- 
ment in  your  former  property.  It  would  arouse  the  liveliest 
popular  interest  and  stimulate  a  discussion  of  the  ethical 
basis  of  our  economic  equality  that  would  be  of  great  edu- 
cational value  to  the  community.    You  see  the  present  order 


72  EQUALITY. 

has  been  so  long  established  that  it  does  not  often  occur  to 
anybody  except  historians  that  there  ever  was  any  other.  It 
would  be  a  good  thing-  for  the  people  to  have  their  minds 
stirred  up  on  the  subject  and  be  compelled  to  do  some 
fundamental  thinking  as  to  the  merits?  of  the  differences 
between  the  old  and  the  new  order  and  the  reasons  for 
the  present  system.  Confronting  the  court  ^^-ith  those 
securities  in  your  hand,  you  would  make  a  fine  dramatic 
situation.  It  would  be  the  nineteenth  century  challeng- 
ing the  twentieth,  the  old  civilization,  demanding  an  ac- 
counting of  the  new.  The  judges,  you  may  be  sure,  would 
treat  you  with  the  greatest  consideration.  They  would  at 
once  admit  your  rights  under  the  peculiar  circumstances  to 
have  the  whole  question  of  wealth  distribution  and  the 
rights  of  property  reopened  from  the  beginning,  and  be 
ready  to  discuss  it  in  the  broadest  sx)irit." 

"  No  doubt,"  I  answered,  "but  it  is  just  an  illustration,  I 
suppose,  of  the  lack  of  unselfish  j)ublic  spirit  among  my 
contemporaries  that  I  do  not  feel  disposed  to  make  myself  a 
spectacle  even  in  the  cause  of  education.  Besides,  what  is 
the  need  ?  You  can  tell  me  as  well  as  the  judges  could 
what  the  answer  would  be,  and  as  it  is  the  answer  I  want 
and  not  the  property  that  will  do  just  as  well." 

"  No  doubt,"  said  the  doctor,  "I  could  give  you  the  gen- 
eral line  of  reasoning  they  would  follow." 

"Very  well.  Let  us  suppose,  then,  that  you  are  the 
court.  On  what  ground  would  you  refuse  to  return  me  my 
million,  for  I  assume  that  you  would  refuse  ?" 

"  Of  course  it  would  be  the  same  ground,"  replied  the 
doctor,  "that  the  nation  proceeded  upon  in  nationalizing 
the  property  which  that  same  million  represented  at  the 
time  of  the  great  Revolution." 

"  I  suppose  so ;  that  is  what  I  want  to  get  at.  What  is 
that  ground  ? " 

"  The  court  would  say  that  to  allow  any  person  to  with- 
draw or  withhold  from  the  public  administration  for  the 
common  use  any  larger  portion  of  capital  than  the  equal 
portion  allotted  to  all  for  personal  use  and  consumption 
would  in  so  far  impair  the  ability  of  society  to  perform  its 
first  dutv  to  its  members." 


LIFE  THE  BASIS  OF  THE  RIGHT  OF  PROPERTY.     73 

"  What  is  this  first  duty  of  society  to  its  members,  which 
would  be  interfered  with  by  allowing  particular  citizens  to 
appropriate  more  than  an  equal  proportion  of  the  cax)ital 
of  the  country  ?  " 

''  The  duty  of  safeguarding  the  first  and  highest  right  of 
its  members — the  right  of  life." 

"  But  how  is  the  duty  of  society  to  safeguard  the  lives  of 
its  members  interfered  with  when  one  person  has  more 
capital  than  another  ?  " 

"  Simply,"  answered  the  doctor,  "  because  people  have  .to 
eat  in  order  to  live,  also  to  be  clothed  and  to  consume  a 
mass  of  necessary  and  desirable  things,  the  sum  of  which 
constitutes  what  we  call  wealth  or  capital.  Now,  if  the 
supply  of  these  things  was  always  unlimited,  as  is  the  air 
we  need  to  breathe,  it  would  not  be  necessary  to  see  that 
each  one  had  his  share,  but  the  supply  of  wealth  being,  in 
fact,  at  any  one  time  limited,  it  follows  that  if  some  have  a 
disproportionate  share,  the  rest  will  not  have  enough  and 
may  be  left  with  nothing,  as  was  indeed  the  case  of  millions 
all  over  the  world  until  the  great  Revolution  established 
economic  equality.  If,  then,  the  first  right  of  the  citizen  is 
protection  tq  life  and  the  first  duty  of  society  is  to  furnish  it, 
the  state  must  evidently  see  to  it  that  the  means  of  life  are 
not  unduly  appropriated  by  particular  individuals,  but  are 
distributed  so  as  to  meet  the  needs  of  all.  Moreover,  in  order 
to  secure  the  means  of  life  to  all,  it  is  not  merely  necessary 
that  the  state  should  see  that  the  wealth  available  for  con- 
sumption is  properly  distributed  at  any  given  time ;  for, 
although  all  might  in  that  case  fare  w^ell  for  to-day,  to- 
morrow all  might  starve  unless,  meanwhile,  new  wealth 
w^ere  being  produced.  The  duty  of  society  to  guarantee  the 
life  of  the  citizen  implies,  therefore,  not  merely  the  equal 
distribution  of  wealth  for  consumption,  but  its  employment 
as  capital  to  the  best  possible  advantage  for  all  in  the  produc- 
tion of  more  wealth.  In  both  ways,  therefore,  you  will  readi- 
ly see  that  society  would  fail  in  its  first  and  greatest  function 
in  proportion  as  it  were  to  permit  individuals  beyond  the 
equal  allotment  to  withdraw  wealth,  whether  for  consump- 
tion or  employment  as  capital,  from  the  public  administra- 
tion in  the  common  interest." 


Y4  EQUALITY. 

"The  modern  ethics  of  ownership  is  rather  startlingly 
simple  to  a  representative  of  the  nineteenth  century,''  I  ob- 
served. "  Would  not  the  judges  even  ask  me  by  what  right 
or  title  of  ownership  I  claimed  my  wealth  ? " 

"  Certainly  not.  It  is  impossible  that  you  or  any  one 
could  have  so  strong  a  title  to  material  things  as  the  least 
of  your  fellow-citizens  have  to  their  lives,  or  could  make  so 
strong  a  plea  for  the  use  of  the  collective  power  to  enforce 
your  right  to  things  as  they  could  make  that  the  collective 
power  should  enforce  their  right  to  life  against  your  right 
to  things  at  whatever  point  the  two  claims  might  directly 
or  indirectly  conflict.  The  effect  of  the  disproportionate 
possession  of  the  wealth  of  a  community  by  some  of  its 
members  to  curtail  and  threaten  the  living  of  the  rest  is  not 
in  any  way  affected  by  the  means  by  which  that  wealth 
was  obtained.  The  means  may  have  constituted,  as  in  past 
times  thej^  often  did  by  their  iniquity,  an  added  injury  to  the 
community ;  but  the  fact  of  the  disproportion,  however  re- 
sulting, was  a  continuing  injury,  without  regard  to  its  be- 
ginnings. Our  ethics  of  wealth  is  indeed,  as  you  say, 
extremely  simple.  It  consists  merely  in  the  law  of  self- 
preservation,  asserted  in  the  name  of  all  against  the  en- 
croachments of  any.  It  rests  upon  a  principle  which  a  child 
can  understand  as  well  as  a  philospher,  and  which  no  phi- 
losopher ever  attempted  to  refute — namely,  the  supreme 
right  of  all  to  live,  and  consequently  to  insist  that  society 
shall  be  so  organized  as  to  secure  that  right. 

"  But,  after  all,"  said  the  doctor,  "  what  is  there  in  our 
economic  application  of  this  princij)le  which  need  impress 
a  man  of  your  time  with  any  other  sensation  than  one  of 
surprise  that  it  Avas  not  earlier  made  ?  Since  what  you  were 
wont  to  call  modern  civilization  existed,  it  has  been  a  prin- 
ciple subscribed  to  by  all  governments  and  peoples  that  it  is 
the  first  and  supreme  duty  of  the  state  to  protect  the  lives 
of  the  citizens.  For  the  purpose  of  doing  this  the  police,  the 
courts,  the  army,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  machinery  of 
governments  have  existed.  You  went  so  far  as  to  hold  that 
a  state  which  did  not  at  any  cost  and  to  the  utmost  of  its  re- 
sources safeguard  the  lives  of  its  citizens  forfeited  all  claim 
to  their  allegiance. 


LIFE  THE  BASIS  OF  THE  RIGHT  OF  PROPERTY.     ^75 

"  But  while  professing  this  principle  so  broadly  in  words, 
you  completely  ignored  in  practice  half  and  vastly  the 
greater  half  of  its  meaning.  You  w^holly  overlooked  and 
disregarded  the  peril  to  which  life  is  exposed  on  the  eco- 
nomic side — the  hunger,  cold,  and  thirst  side.  You  went  on 
the  theory  that  it  was  only  by  club,  knife,  bullet,  poison,  or 
some  other  form  of  physical  violence  that  life  could  be  en- 
dangered, as  if  hunger,  cold,  and  thirst — in  a  word,  economic 
want — were  not  a  far  more  constant  and  more  deadly  foe  to 
existence  than  all  the  forms  of  violence  together.  You 
overlooked  the  plain  fact  that  anybody  who  by  any  means, 
however  indirect  or  remote,  took  away  or  curtailed  one's 
means  of  subsistence  attacked  his  life  quite  as  dangerously 
as  it  could  be  done  with  knife  or  bullet — more  so,  indeed, 
seeing  that  against  direct  attack  he  would  have  a  better 
chance  of  defending  himself.  You  failed  to  consider  that 
no  amount  of  police,  judicial,  and  military  protection  would 
prevent  one  from  perishing  miserably  if  he  had  not  enough 
to  eat  and  w^ear." 

"We  went  on  the  theory,"  I  said,  "  that  it  was  not  well 
for  the  state  to  intervene  to  do  for  the  individual  or  to  help 
him  to  do  what  he  was  able  to  do  for  himself.  We  held 
that  the  collective  organization  should  only  be  appealed  to 
w^ien  the  power  of  the  individual  was  manifestly  unequal 
to  the  task  of  self-defense." 

"  It  w^as  not  so  bad  a  theory  if  you  had  lived  up  to  it," 
said  the  doctor,  "  although  the  modern  theory  is  far  more 
rational  that  whatever  can  be  done  better  by  collective  than 
individual  action  ought  to  be  so  undertaken,  even  if  it 
could,  after  a  more  imperfect  fashion,  be  individually  ac- 
complished. But  don't  you  think  that  under  the  economic 
conditions  which  prevailed  in  America  at  the  end  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  not  to  speak  of  Europe,  the  average  man 
armed  with  a  good  revolver  would  have  found  the  task  of  pro- 
tecting himself  and  family  against  violence  a  far  easier  one 
than  that  of  protecting  them  against  want  ?  Were  not  the 
odds  against  him  far  greater  in  the  latter  struggle  than  they 
could  have  been,  if  he  were  a  tolerably  good  shot,  in  the 
former  ?  Why,  then,  according  to  your  own  maxim,  was 
the  collective  force  of  society  devoted  without  stint  to  safe- 


76  EQUALITY. 

guarding  him  against  violence,  which  he  could  have  done 
for  himself  fairly  well,  while  he  was  left  to  struggle  against 
hopeless  odds  for  the  means  of  a  decent  existence  ?  What 
hour,  of  what  day  of  w^hat  year  ever  passed  in  which  the 
number  of  deaths,  and  the  physical  and  moral  anguish  re- 
sulting from  the  anarchy  of  the  economic  struggle  and  the 
crushing  odds  against  the  poor,  did  not  outweigh  as  a  hun- 
dred to  one  that  same  hour's  record  of  death  or  suffering 
resulting  from  violence  ?  Far  better  would  society  have 
fulfilled  its  recognized  duty  of  safeguarding  the  lives  of 
its  members  if,  repealing  every  criminal  law  and  dismiss- 
ing every  judge  and  policeman,  it  had  left  men  to  protect 
themselves  as  best  they  might  against  physical  violence, 
while  establishing  in  place  of  the  machinery  of  criminal 
justice  a  system  of  economic  administration  whereby  all 
would  have  been  guaranteed  against  want.  If,  indeed,  it 
had  but  substituted  this  collective  economic  organization 
for  the  criminal  and  judicial  system  it  presently  would 
have  had  as  little  need  of  the  latter  as  we  do,  for  most  of 
the  crimes  that  plagued  you  were  direct  or  indirect  conse- 
quences of  your  unjust  economic  conditions,  and  would 
have  disappeared  with  them. 

"  But  excuse  my  vehemence.  Remember  that  I  am  ar- 
raigning your  civilization  ancinot  you.  What  I  wanted  to 
bring  out  is  that  the  principle  that  the  first  duty  of  society 
is  to  safeguard  the  lives  of  its  members  was  as  fully  ad- 
mitted by  your  world  as  by  ours,  and  that  in  failing  to  give 
the  principle  an  economic  as  well  as  police,  judicial,  and 
military  interpretation,  your  world  convicted  itself  of  an  in- 
consistency as  glaring  in  logic  as  it  was  cruel  in  conse- 
quences. We,  on  the  other  hand,  in  assuming  as  a  na- 
tion the  responsibility  of  safeguarding  the  lives  of  the 
people  on  the  economic  side,  have  merely,  for  the  first  time, 
honestly  carried  out  a  principle  as  old  as  the  civilized 
state." 

"  That  is  clear  enough,"  I  said.  "  Any  one,  oil  the  mere 
statement  of  the  case,  would  of  course  be  bound  to  admit 
that  the  recognized  duty  of  the  state  to  guarantee  the  life  of 
the  citizen  against  the  action  of  his  fellows  does  logically  in- 
volve responsibility  to  protect  him  from  influences  attack- 


LIFE  THE  BASIS  OF  THE  RIGHT  OF  PROPERTY.     77 

ing  the  economic  basis  of  life  quite  as  much  as  from  direct 
forcible  assaults.  The  more  advanced  governments  of  my 
day,  by  their  poor  laws  and  pauper  systems,  in  a  dim  way  ad- 
mitted this  responsibility,  although  the  kind  of  provision 
they  made  for  the  economically  unfortunate  was  so  meager 
and  accompanied  with  such  conditions  of  ignominy  that  men 
would  ordinarily  rather  die  than  accept  it.  But  grant  that 
the  sort  of  recognition  we  gave  of  the  right  of  the  citizen  to 
be  guaranteed  a  subsistence  was  a  mockery  more  brutal  than 
its  total  denial  would  have  been,  and  that  a  far  larger  inter- 
pretation of  its  duty  in  this  respect  was  incumbent  on  the 
state,  yet  how  does  it  logically  follow  that  society  is  bound 
to  guarantee  or  the  citizen  to  deinand  an  absolute  economic 
equality  ? " 

''  It  is  very  true,  as  you  say,"  answered  the  doctor,  "  that 
the  duty  of  society  to  guarantee  eveiy  member  the  economic 
basis  of  his  life  might  be  after  some  fashion  discharged 
short  of  establishing  economic  equality.  Just  so  in  your 
day  might  the  duty  of  the  state  to  safeguard  the  lives  of 
citizens  from  physical  violence  have  been  discharged  after 
a  nominal  fashion  if  it  had  contented  itself  with  preventing 
outright  murders,  while  leaving  the  people  to  suffer  from 
one  another's  wantonness  all' manner  of  violence  not  directly 
deadly ;  but  tell  me,  Julian,  were  governments  in  your  day 
content  with  so  construing  the  limit  of  their  duty  to  pro- 
tect citizens  from  violence,  or  would  the  citizens  have  been 
content  with  such  a  limitation  V 

"Of  course  not." 

"  A  government  which  in  your  day,"  continued  the  doctor, 
"  had  limited  its  undertaking  to  protect  citizens  from  violence 
to  merely  preventing  murders  would  not  have  lasted  a  day. 
There  were  no  people  so  barbarous  as  to  have  tolerated  it. 
In  fact,  not  only  did  all  civilized  governments  undertake  to 
protect  citizens  from  assaults  against  their  lives,  but  from 
any  and  every  sort  of  physical  assault  and  offense,  however 
petty.  Not  only  might  not  a  man  so  much  as  lay  a  finger  on 
another  in  anger,  but  if  he  only  wagged  his  tongue  against 
him  maliciously  he  was  laid  by  the  heels  in  jail.  The  law 
undertook  to  protect  men  in  their  dignity  as  well  as  in  their 
mere  bodily  integrity,  rightly  recognizing  that  to  be  in- 


78  EQUALITY. 

suited  or  spit  upon  is  as  great  a  grievance  as  any  assault 
upon  life  itself. 

"  Now,  in  undertaking  to  secure  the  citizen  in  his  right 
to  life  on  the  economic  side,  we  do  but  studiously  follow 
your  precedents  in  safeguarding  him  from  direct  assault. 
If  we  did  but  secure  his  economic  basis  so  far  as  to  avert 
death  by  direct  effect  of  hunger  and  cold  as  your  pauper 
laws  made  a  pretense  of  doing,  we  should  be  like  a  State  in 
your  day  which  forbade  outright  murder  but  permitted 
every  kind  of  assault  that  fell  short  of  it.  Distress  and 
deprivation  resulting  from  economic  want  falling  short  of 
actual  starvation  precisely  correspond  to  the  acts  of  minor 
violence  against  which  your  State  protected  citizens  as  care- 
fully as  against  murder.  The  right  of  the  citizen  to  have 
his  life  secured  him  on  the  economic  side  can  not  therefore 
be  satisfied  by  any  provision  for  bare  subsistence,  or  by  any- 
thing less  than  the  means  for  the  fullest  supply  of  every 
need  which  it  is  in  the  power  of  the  nation  by  the  thriftiest 
stewardship  of  the  national  resources  to  provide  for  all. 

"  That  is  to  say,  in  extending  the  reign  of  law  and  public 
justice  to  the  protection  and  security  of  men's  interests  on 
the  economic  side,  we  have  merely  followed,  as  we  were 
reasonably  bound  to  follow,  your  much- vaunted  maxim  of 
*  equality  before  the  law.'  That  maxim  meant  that  in  so 
far  as  society  collectively  undertook  any  governmental  func- 
tion, it  must  act  absolutely  without  respect  of  persons  for 
the  equal  benefit  of  all.  Unless,  therefore,  we  were  to  reject 
the  principle  of  'equality  before  the  law,'  it  was  impossible 
that  society,  having  assumed  charge  of  the  production  and 
distribution  of  wealth  as  a  <iollective  function,  could  dis- 
charge it  on  any  other  principle  than  equality." 

"  If  the  court  please,"  I  said,  "  I  should  like  to  be  per- 
mitted at  this  point  to  discontinue  and  withdraw  my  suit  for 
the  restoration  of  my  former  property.  In  my  day  we  used 
to  hold  on  to  all  we  had  and  fight  for  all  we  could  get  with 
a  good  stomach,  for  our  rivals  were  as  selfish  as  we,  and  rep- 
resented no  higher  right  or  larger  view.  But  this  modern 
social  system  with  its  public  stewardship  of  all  capital  for 
the  general  welfare  quite  changes  the  situation.  It  puts  the 
man  who  demands  more  than  his  share  in  the  light  of  a  per- 


INEQUALITY  OF  WEALTH  DESTROYS  LIBERTY.    79 

son  attacking  the  livelihood  and  seeking  to  impair  the  wel- 
fare of  everybody  else  in  the  nation.  To  enjoy  that  attitude 
anybody  must  be  a  good  deal  better  convinced  of  the  justice 
of  his  title  than  I  ever  was  even  in  the  old  days." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

HOW  INEQUALITY  OF   WEALTH   DESTROYS  LIBERTY. 

"Nevertheless,"  said  the  doctor,  "I  have  stated  only 
half  the  reason  the  judges  Avould  give  wherefore  they  could 
not,  by  returning  your  wealth,  permit  the  impairment  of 
our  collective  economic  system  and  the  beginnings  of  eco- 
nomic inequality  in  the  nation.  There  is  another  great  and 
equal  right  of  all  men  which,  though  strictly  included 
under  the  right  of  life,  is  by  generous  minds  set  even  above 
it :  I  mean  the  right  of  liberty — that  is  to  say,  the  right  not 
only  to  live,  but  to  live  in  personal  independence  of  one's 
fellows,  owning  only  those  common  social  obligations  rest- 
ing on  all  alike. 

"  Now,  the  duty  of  the  state  to  safeguard  the  liberty  of 
citizens  was  recognized  in  your  day  just  as  was  its  duty  to 
safeguard  their  lives,  but  with  the  same  limitation,  namely, 
that  the  safeguard  should  apply  only  to  protect  from  attacks 
by  violence.  If  it  were  attempted  to  kidnap  a  citizen  and 
reduce  him  by  force  to  slavery,  the  state  would  interfere, 
but  not  otherwise.  Nevertheless,  it  was  true  in  your  day  of 
liberty  and  personal  independence,  as  of  life,  that  the  perils 
to  which  they  were  chiefly  exposed  were  not  from  force  or 
violence,  but  resulted  from  economic  causes,  the  necessary 
consequences  of  inequalities  of  wealth.  Because  the  state 
absolutely  ignored  this  side,  which  was  incomparably  the 
largest  side  of  the  liberty  question,  its  pretense  of  defending 
the  liberties  of  citizens  was  as  gross  a  mockery  as  that  of 
guaranteeing  their  lives.  Nay,  it  was  a  yet  more  absolute 
mockery  and  on  a  far  vaster  scale. 

"  For,  although  I  have  spoken  of  the  monopolization  of 


80  EQUALITY. 

wealth  and  of  the  productive  machinery  by  a  portion  of  the 
people  as  being  first  of  all  a  threat  to  the  lives  of  the  rest 
of  the  community  and  to  be  resisted  as  such,  nevertheless 
the  main  practical  effect  of  the  system  was  not  to  deprive 
the  masses  of  mankind  of  life  outright,  but  to  force  them, 
through  want,  to  buy  their  lives  hj  the  surrender  of  their 
liberties.  That  is  to  say,  they  accepted  servitude  to  the  pos- 
sessing class  and  became  their  serfs  on  condition  of  receiv- 
ing the  means  of  subsistence.  Although  multitudes  were 
always  perishing  from  lack  of  subsistence,  yet  it  was  not 
the  deliberate  policy  of  the  possessing  class  that  they  should 
do  so.  The  rich  had  no  use  for  dead  men  ;  on  the  other 
hand,  they  had  endless  use  for  human  beings  as  servants, 
not  only  to  produce  more  wealth,  but  as  the  instruments  of 
their  pleasure  and  luxury.' 

"As  I  need  not  remind  you  who  were  familiar  with  it, 
the  industrial  system  of  the  world  before  the  great  Revolu- 
tion was  wholly  based  upon  the  compulsory  servitude  of 
the  mass  of  mankind  to  the  possessing  class,  enforced  by  the 
coercion  of  economic  need." 

"  Undoubtedly,"  I  said,  "  the  poor  as  a  class  were  in  the 
economic  service  of  the  rich,  or,  as  we  used  to  say,  labor  was 
dependent  on  capital  for  employment,  but  this  service  and 
employment  had  become  in  the  nineteenth  century  an 
entirely  voluntary  relation  on  the  part  of  the  servant  or 
employee.  The  rich  had  no  power  to  compel  the  poor  to 
be  their  servants.  They  only  took  such  as  came  voluntarily 
to  ask  to  be  taken  into  service,  and  even  begged  to  be,  with 
tears.  Surely  a  service  so  sought  after  could  scarcely  be 
called  compulsory." 

"  Tell  us,  Julian,"  said  the  doctor,  "  did  the  rich  go  to 
one  another  and  ask  the  privilege  of  being  one  another's 
servants  or  employees  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not." 

"  But  why  not  ?  " 

"  Because,  naturally,  no  one  could  wish  to  be  another's 
servant  or  subject  to  his  orders  who  could  get  along  with- 
out it."  .  ' 

"  I  should  suppose  so,  but  why,  then,  did  the  poor  so 
eagerly  seek  to  serve  the  rich  when  the  rich  refused  with 


INEQUALITY  OF  WEALTH  DESTROYS  LIBERTY.    81 

scorn  to  serve  one  another  ?  Was  it  because  the  poor  so 
loved  the  rich  ?  " 

•'  Scarcely."' 

"Why  then?" 

"  It  was,  of  course,  for  the  reason  that  it  w^as  the  only  way 
the  poor  could  get  a  living." 

"  You  mean  that  it  was  only  the  pressure  of  want  or  tlie 
fear  of  it  that  drove  the  poor  to  the  point  of  becoming  the 
servants  of  the  rich  ? " 

"  That  is  about  it." 

"  And  Avould  you  call  that  voluntary  service  ?  The  dis- 
tinction between  forced  service  and  such  service  as  that 
would  seem  quite  imperceptible  to  us.  If  a  man  may  be 
said  to  do  voluntarily  that  which  only  the  pressure  of  bitter 
necessity  compels  him  to  elect  to  do,  there  has  never  been 
any  such  thing  as  slavery,  for  all  the  acts  of  a  slave  are  at 
the  last  the  acceptance  of  a  less  evil  for  fear  of  a  worse. 
Suppose,  Julian,  you  or  a  few  of  you  owned  the  main  water 
supply,  or  food  supply,  clothing  supply,  land  supply,  or 
main  industrial  opportunities  in  a  community  and  could 
maintain  your  ownership,  that  fact  alone  would  make  the 
rest  of  the  people  your  slaves,  w^ould  it  not,  and  that,  too, 
without  any  direct  compulsion  on  your  part  whatever  ?  " 

"No  doubt." 

"  Suppose  somebody  should  charge  you  with  holding  the 
people  under  compulsory  servitude,  and  you  should  answer 
that  you  laid  no  hand  on  them  but  that  they  willingly 
resorted  to  you  and  kissed  your  hands  for  the  privilege  of 
being  allowed  to  serve  you  in  exchange  for  water,  food,  or 
clothing,  would  not  that  be  a  very  transparent  evasion  on 
your  part  of  the  charge  of  slaveholding  ?  " 

"  No  doubt  it  would  be." 

"  Well,  and  was  not  that  precisely  the  relation  the  capi- 
talists or  employers  as  a  class  held  tow^ard  the  rest  of  the 
community  through  their  monopolization  of  wealth  and  the 
machinery  of  production  ?  " 

"I  must  say  that  it  was." 

"  There  was  a  great  deal  said  by  the  economists  of  your 
day,"  the  doctor  went  on,  "  about  the  freedom  of  contract — 
the  voluntary,  unconstrained  agreement  of  the  laborer  with 


82  EQUALITY. 

the  employer  as  to  the  terms  of  his  employment.  What 
hypocrisy  could  have  been  so  brazen  as  that  pretense  when, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  every  contract  made  between  the  capi- 
talist who  had  bread  and  could  keep  it  and  the  laborer  'who 
must  have  it  or  die  would  have  been  declared  void,  if  fairly 
judg-ed,  even  under  your  laws  as  a  contract  made  under 
duress  of  hunger,  cold,  and  nakedness,  nothing  less  than  the 
threat  of  death  !  If  you  own  the  things  men  must  have, 
you  own  the  men  who  must  have  them." 

*'  But  the  compulsion  of  want,"  said  I,  ''  meaning  hunger 
and  cold,  is  a  compulsion  of  Nature.  In  that  sense  we  are 
all  under  compulsory  servitude  to  Nature." 

"  Yes,  but  not  to  one  another.  That  is  the  whole  differ- 
ence between  slavery  and  freedom.  To-day  no  man  serves 
another,  but  all  the  common  good  in  which  we  equally  share. 
Under  your  sj^stem  the  compulsion  of  Nature  through  the 
appropriation  by  the  rich  of  the  means  of  supplying  Nature's 
demands  was  turned  into  a  club  by  which  the  rich  made 
the  poor  pay  Nature's  debt  of  labor  not  only  for  themselves 
but  for  the  rich  also,  with  a  vast  overcharge  besides  for  the 
needless  waste  of  the  system." 

"  You  make  out  our  system  to  have  been  little  better 
than  slavery.     That  is  a  hard  word." 

"  It  is  a  very  hard  word,  and  we  want  above  all  things 
to  be  fair.  Let  us  look  at  the  question.  Slavery  exists 
where  there  is  a  compulsory  using  of  men  by  other  men  for 
the  benefit  of  the  users.  I  think  we  are  quite  agreed  that 
the  poor  man  in  your  day  worked  for  the  rich  only  because 
his  necessities  compelled  him  to.  That  compulsion  varied 
in  force  according  to  the  degree  of  want  the  worker  was  in. 
Those  who  had  a  little  economic  means  would  only  render 
the  lighter  kinds  of  service  on  more  or  less  easy  and  honor- 
able conditions,  while  those  who  had  less  means  or  no  means 
at  all  would  do  anything  on  any  terms  however  painful  or 
degrading.  With  the  mass  of  the  workers  the  compulsion 
of  necessity  was  of  the  sharpest  kind.  The  chattel  slave 
had  the  choice  between  working  for  his  master  and  the 
lash.  The  wage-earner  chose  between  laboring  for  an  em- 
ployer or  starving.  In  the  older,  cruder  forms  of  slavery 
the  masters  had  to  be  watching  constantly  to  prevent  the 


INEQUALITY  OF  WEALTH  DESTROYS  LIBERTY.    83 

escape  of  their  slaves,  and  were  troubled  with  the  charge 
of  providing  for  them.  Your  system  was  more  convenient, 
in  that  it  made  Nature  your  taskmaster,  and  depended  on 
her  to  keei3  your  servants  to  the  task.  It  was  a  difference 
between  the  direct  exercise  of  coercion,  in  wliich  the  slave 
was  always  on  the  point  of  rebellion,  and  an  indirect  coer- 
cion by  which  the  same  industrial  result  was  obtained,  while 
the  slave,  instead  of  rebelling  against  his  master's  authority, 
was  grateful  for  the  opportunity  of  serving  him." 

"  But,"  said  I,  "  the  wage-earner  received  wages  and  the 
slave  received  nothing." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  The  slave  received  subsistence — 
clothing  and  shelter — and  the  wage-earner  who  could  get 
more  than  these  out  of  his  wages  was  rarely  fortunate.  The 
rate  of  wages,  except  in  new  countries  and  under  special 
conditions  and  for  skilled  workers,  kept  at  about  the  sub- 
sistence point,  quite  as  often  dropping  below  as  rising  above. 
The  main  difference  was  that  the  master  expended  the  sub- 
sistence wage  of  the  chattel  slave  for  him  while  the  earner 
expended  it  for  himself.  This  was  better  for  the  worker  in 
some  ways  ;  in  others  less  desirable,  for  the  master  out  of 
self-interest  usually  saw  that  the  chattel,  his  wife,  and  chil- 
dren had  enough,  while  the  employer,  having  no  stake  in 
the  life  or  health  of  the  wage-earner,  did  not  concern  him- 
self as  to  whether  he  lived  or  died.  There  were  never  any 
slave  quarters  so  vile  as  the  tenement  houses  of  the  city 
slums  where  the  wage-earners  were  housed." 

"  But  at  least,"  said  I,  "  there  was  this  radical  difference 
between  the  wage-earner  of  my  day  and  the  chattel  slave : 
the  former  could  leave  his  employer  at  will,  the  latter  could 
not." 

"  Yes,  that  is  a  difference,  but  one  surely  that  told  not  so 
much  in  favor  of  as  against  the  wage-earner.  In  all  save 
temporarily  fortunate  countries  with  sparse  i^opulation  the 
laborer  would  have  been  glad  indeed  to  exchange  the  right 
to  leave  his  employer  for  a  guarantee  that  he  would  not  be 
discharged  by  him.  Fear  of  losing  his  opportunity  to  work 
— his  job,  as  you  called  it — was  the  nightmare  of  the  labor- 
er's life  as  it  was  reflected  in  the  literature  of  your  period. 
Was  it  not  so  ?  " 


84  EQUALITY. 

I  had  to  admit  that  it  was  even  so. 

"  The  privileg-e  of  leaving  one  employer  for  another," 
pursued  the  doctor,  "  even  if  it  had  not  been  more  than  bal- 
anced by  the  liability  to  discharge,  was  of  very  little  worth 
to  the  worker,  in  view  of  the.  fact  that  the '  rate  of  wages 
was  at  about  the  same  point  wherever  he  might  go,  and  the 
change  would  be  merely-  a  choice  between  the  personal  dis- 
positions of  different  masters,  and  that  difference  was  slight 
enough,  for  business  rules  controlled  the  relations  of  masters 
and  men." 

I  rallied  once  more. 

"  One  point  of  real  superiority  at  least  you  must  admit 
the  wage-earner  had  over  the  chattel  slave.  He  could  by 
merit  rise  out  of  his  condition  and  become  himself  an  em- 
ployer, a  rich  man." 

"  Surely,  Julian,  you  forget  that  there  has  rarely  been  a 
slave  system  under  wliich  the  more  energetic,  intelligent,  and 
thrifty  slaves  could  and  did  not  buy  their  freedom  or  have  it 
given  them  by  their  masters.  The  freedmen  in  ancient 
Rome  rose  to  places  of  imi)ortance  and  ]30wer  quite  as  fre- 
quently as  did  the  born  proletarian  of  Europe  or  America 
get  out  of  his  condition." 

I  did  not  think  of  anything  to  reply  at  the  moment,  and 
the  doctor,  having  compassion  on  me,  pursued  :  "  It  is  an 
old  illustration  of  the  different  view  points  of  the  centuries 
that  precisely  this  point  which  you  make  of  the  possibility 
of  the  wage-earner  rising,  although  it  was  getting  to  be  a 
vanishing  point  in  your  day,  seems  to  us  the  most  truly 
diabolical  feature  of  the  whole  system.  The  prospect  of 
rising  as  a  motive  to  reconcile  the  wage-earner  or  the  poor 
man  in  general  to  his  subjection,  what  did  it  amount  to  ? 
It  was  but  saying  to  him,  '  Be  a  good  slave,  and  you,  too, 
shall  have  slaves  of  your  own.'  By  this  wedge  did  you 
separate  the  cleverer  of  the  wage- workers  from  the  mass  of 
them  and  dignify  treason  to  humanity  by  the  name  of  am- 
bition. No  true  man  should  wish  to  rise  save  to  raise  others 
with  him." 

"  One  point  of  difference,  however,  you  must  at  least  ad- 
mit," I  said.  "  In  chattel  slavery  the  master  had  a  power 
oyer  the  persons  of  his  slaves  which  the  employer  did  not 


INEQUALITY  OF  WEALTH  DESTROYS  LIBERTY.    85 

have  over  even  the  poorest  of  his  employees :  he  could  not 
lay  his  hand  upon  them  in  violence." 

"  Again,  Julian,"  said  the  doctor,  "  you  have  mentioned 
a  point  of  difference  that  tells  in  favor  of  chattel  slavery  as 
a  more  humane  industrial  method  than  the  wage  system. 
If  here  and  there  the  anger  of  the  chattel  slave  owner  made 
him  forget  his  self-restraint  so  far  as  to  cripple  or  maim  his 
slaves,  yet  such  cases  were  on  the  whole  rare,  and  such  mas- 
ters were  held  to  an  account  by  public  opinion  if  not  by 
law ;  but  under  the  wage  system  the  employer  had  no  mo- 
tive of  self-restraint  to  spare  life  or  limb  of  his  employees, 
and  he  escaped  responsibility  by  the  fact  of  the  consent  and 
even  eagerness  of  the  needy  people  to  undertake  the  most 
perilous  and  painful  tasks  for  the  sake  of  bread.  We  read 
that  in  the  United  States  every  year  at  least  two  hundred 
thousand  men,  women,  and  children  were  done  to  death  or 
maimed  in  the  performance  of  their  industrial  duties,  nearly 
forty  thousand  alone  in  the  single  branch  of  the  steam  rail- 
road service.  No  estimate  seems  to  have  ever  been  at- 
tempted of  the  many  times  greater  number  who  perished 
more  indirectly  through  the  injurious  effects  of  bad  indus- 
trial conditions.  What  chattel-slave  system  ever  made  a 
record  of  such  wastefulness  of  human  life  as  that  ? 

"  Nay,  more,  the  chattel-slave  owner,  if  he  smote  his 
slave,  did  it  in  anger  and,  as  likely  as  not,  with  some  provo- 
cation ;  but  these  wholesale  slaughters  of  wage-earners  that 
made  your  land  red  were  done  in  sheer  cold-bloodedness, 
without  any  other  motive  on  the  part  of  the  capitalists,  who 
were  responsible,  save  gain. 

"  Still  again,  one  of  the  more  revolting  features  of  chattel 
slavery  has  always  been  considered  the  subjection  of  the 
slave  women  to  the  lust  of  their  masters.  How  was  it  in 
this  respect  under  the  rule  of  the  rich  ?  We  read  in  our 
histories  that  gi^eat  armies  of  women  in  your  day  were 
forced  by  poverty  to  make  a  business  of  submitting  their 
bodies  to  those  who  had  the  means  of  furnishing  them  a 
little  bread.  The  books  say  that  these  armies  amounted  in 
your  great  cities  to  bodies  of  thirty  or  forty  thousand  women. 
Tales  come  down  to  us  of  the  magnitude  of  the  maiden 
tribute  levied  upon  the  poorer  classes  for  the  gratification  of 


86  EQUALITY. 

the  lusts  of  those  who  could  pay,  which  the  annals  of  an- 
tiquity could  scarcely  match  for  horror.  Am  I  saying  too 
much,  Julian  ? '' 

"You  have  mentioned  nothing  hut  facts  which  stared 
me  in  the  face  all  my  life,"  I  replied,  "  and  yet  it  appears  I 
have  had  to  wait  for  a  man  of  another  century  to  tell  me 
what  they  meant," 

"  It  was  precisely  because  they  stared  you  and  your  con- 
temporaries so  constantly  in  the  face,  and  always  had  done 
so,  that  you  lost  the  faculty  of  judging  their  meaning. 
They  were,  as  we  might  say,  too  near  the  eyes  to  be  seen 
aright.  You  are  far  enough  away  from  the  facts  now  to  be- 
gin to  see  them  clearly  and  to  realize  their  significance.  As 
you  shall  continue  to  occupy  this  modern  view  jDoint,  you 
will  more  and  more  comxDletely  come  to  see  with  us  that  the 
most  revolting  aspect  of  the  human  condition  before  the 
great  Revolution  was  not  the  suffering  from  physical  j)riva- 
tion  or  even  the  outright  starvation  of  multitudes  which 
directly  resulted  from  the  unequal  distribution  of  wealth, 
but  the  indirect  eifect  of  that  inequality  to  reduce  almost 
the  total  human  race  to  a  state  of  degrading  bondage  to 
their  fellows.  As  it  seems  to  us,  the  offense  of  the  old  order 
S,gainst  liberty  was  even  greater  than  the  offense  to  life ; 
and  even  if  it  were  conceivable  that  it  could  have  satisfied 
the  right  of  life  by  guaranteeing  abundance  to  all,  it  must 
just  the  same  have  been  destroyed,  for,  although  the  col- 
lective administration  of  the  economic  system  had  been  un- 
necessary to  guarantee  life,  there  could  be  no  such  thing  as 
liberty  so  long  as  by  the  eflPect  of  inequalities  of  wealth  and 
the  private  control  of  the  means  of  production  the  oppor- 
tunity of  men  to  obtain  the  means  of  subsistence  depended 
on  the  will  of  other  men." 


PRIVATE  CAPITAL  STOLEN  FROM  SOCIAL  FUND.     87 
CHAPTER  XIII. 

PRIVATE   CAPITAL  STOLEN  FROM   THE   SOCIAL  FUND. 

"  I  OBSERVE,"  pursued  the  doctor,  "  that  Edith  is  getting 
very  impatient  with  these  dry  disquisitions,  and  thinks  it 
liigh  time  we  passed  from  wealth  in  the  abstract  to  wealth 
in  the  concrete,  as  illustrated  by  the  contents  of  your  safe. 
I  will  delay  the  company  only  while  I  gay  a  very  few  words 
more  ;  but  really  this  question  of  the  restoration  of  your 
million,  raised  half  in  jest  as  it  was,  so  vitally  touches  the 
central  and  fundamental  principle  of  our  social  order  that 
I  want  to  give  you  at  least  an  outline  idea  of  the  modern 
ethics  of  wealth  distribution. 

"  The  essential  difference  between  the  new  and  the  old 
point  of  view  you  fully  possess  by  this  time.  The  old  ethics 
conceived  of  the  question  of  what  a  man  might  rightfully 
possess  as  one  which  began  and  ended  with  the  relation  of  in- 
dividuals to  things.  Things  have  no  rights  as  against  moral 
beings,  and  there  was  no  reason,  therefore,  in  the  nature  of 
the  case  as  thus  stated,  why  individuals  should  not  acquire 
an  unlimited  ownership  of  things  so  far  as  their  abilities 
permitted.  But  this  view  absolutely  ignored  the  social  con- 
sequences which  result  from  an  unequal  distribution  of 
material  things  in  a  world  where  everybody  absolutely  de- 
pends for  life  and  all  its  uses  on  their  share  of  those  things. 
That  is  to  say,  the  old  so-called  ethics  of  property  absolutely 
overlooked  the  whole  ethical  side  of  the  subject — namely, 
its  bearing  on  human  relations.  It  is  precisely  this  con- 
sideration which  furnishes  the  whole  basis  of  the  modern 
ethics  of  property.  All  human  beings  are  equal  in  rights 
and  dignity,  and  only  such  a  system  of  wealth  distribution 
can  therefore  be  defensible  as  respects  and  secures  those 
equalities.  But  while  this  is  the  principle  which  you  will 
hear  most  generally  stated  as  the  moral  ground  of  our  eco- 
nomic equality,  there  is  another  quite  sufficient  and  wholly 
different  ground  on  which,  even  if  the  rights  of  life  and 
liberty  were  not  involved,  we  should  yet  maintain  that  equal 
sharing  of  the  total  jDroduct  of  industry  was  the  only  just 
plan,  and  that  any  other  was  robbery. 


$8  EQUALITY. 

"  The  main  factor  in  the  production  of  wealth  among-  civ- 
ilized men  is  the  social  organism,  the  machiner^^  of  asso- 
ciated labor  and  exchange  by  which  hundreds  of  millions  of 
individuals  provide  the  demand  for  one  another's  product 
and  mutually  complement  one  another's  labors,  thereby 
making  the  productive  and  distributive  systems  of  a  nation 
and  of  the  world  one  great  machine.  This  was  true  even 
under  private  capitalism,  despite  the  prodigious  waste  and 
friction  of  its  methods ;  but  of  course  it  is  a  far  more  impor- 
tant truth  now  when  the  machinery  of  co-operation  runs 
with  absolute  smoothness  and  every  ounce  of  energy  is 
utilized  to  the  utmost  eifect.  The  element  in  the  total  in- 
dustrial product  which  is  due  to  the  social  organism  is  repre- 
sented by  the  difference  between  the  value  of  what  one  man 
produces  as  a  worker  in  connection  with  the  social  organi- 
zation and  w^hat  he  could  produce  in  a  condition  of  isolation. 
Working  in  concert  with  his  fellows  by  aid  of  the  social  or- 
ganism, he  and  they  produce  enough  to  support  all  in  the 
highest  luxury  and  refinement.  Toiling  in  isolation,  human 
experience  has  j)roved  that  he  w^ould  be  fortunate  if  he 
could  at  the  utmost  produce  enough  to  keep  himself  alive. 
It  is  estimated,  I  believe,  that  the  average  daily  product  of  a 
worker  in  America  to-day  is  some  fifty  dollars.  The  product 
of  the  same  man  working  in  isolation  would  probably  be 
highly  estimated  on  the  same  basis  of  calculation  if  put  at 
a  quarter  of  a  dollar.  Now  tell  me,  Julian,  to  whom  be- 
longs the  social  organism,  this  vast  machinery  of  human 
association,  which  enhances  some  two  hundredfold  the 
product  of  every  one's  labor  ? " 

'•  Manifestly,"  I  replied,  ''  it  can  belong  to  no  one  in  par- 
ticular, but  to  nothing  less  than  society  collectively.  Society 
collectively  can  be  the  only  heir  to  the  social  inheritance  of 
intellect  and  discovery,  and  it  is  society  collectively  which 
furnishes  the  continuous  daily  concourse  by  which  alone 
that  inheritance  is  made  effective." 

"  Exactly  so.  The  social  organism,  with  all  that  it  is  and 
all  it  makes  possible,  is  the  indivisible  inheritance  of  all  in 
common.  To  whom,  then,  properly  belongs  that  two  hun- 
dredfold enhancement  of  the  value  of  every  one's  labor 
which  is  owing  to  the  social  organism  ? " 


PKIVATE  CAPITAL  STOLEN  FROM  SOCIAL  FUND.   89 

".Manifestly  to  society  collectively — to  the  g-eneral  fund." 
"  Previous  to  the  o:reat  Revolution,"  pursued  the  doctor, 
"  although  there  seems  to  have  been  a  vague  idea  of  some 
such  social  fund  as  this,  which  belonged  to  society  collect- 
ively, there  was  no  clear  conception  of  its  vastness,  and  no 
custodian  of  it,  or  possible  provision  to  see  that  it  was  col- 
lected and  applied  for  the  common  use.  A  public  organiza- 
tion of  industry,  a  nationalized  economic  system,  was  neces- 
sary- before  the  social  fund  could  be  properly  protected  and 
administered.  Until  then  it  must  needs  be  the  subject  of 
universal  plunder  and  embezzlement.  The  social  machin- 
ery was  seized  upon  by  adventurers  and  made  a  means  of 
enriching  themselves  by  collecting  tribute  from  the  people 
to  whom  it  belonged  and  whom  it  should  have  enriched. 
It  would  be  one  way  of  describing  the  effect  of  the  Revolu- 
tion to  say  that  it  was  only  the  taking  possession  by  the 
people  collectively  of  the  social  machinery  which  had 
always  belonged  to  them,  thenceforth  to  be  conducted  as  a 
public  plant,  the  returns  of  which  were  to  go  to  the  owners 
as  the  equal  proprietors  and  no  longer  to  buccaneers. 

"  You  will  readily  see,''  the  doctor  went  on,  "  how  this 
analysis  of  the  product  of  industry  must  needs  tend  to  min- 
imize the  importance  of  the  personal  equation  of  perform- 
ance as  between  individual  workers.  If  the  modern  man, 
by  aid  of  the  social  machinery,  can  produce  fifty  dollars' 
worth  of  product  where  he  could  produce  not  over  a  quarter 
of  a  dollar's  worth  without  society,  then  forty-nine  dollars 
and  three  quarters  out  of  every  fifty  dollars  must  be  credited 
to  the  social  fund  to  be  equally  distributed.  The  industrial 
efficiency  of  two  men  working  without  society  might  have 
differed  as  two  to  one — that  is,  while  one  man  was  able  to 
produce  a  full  quarter  dollar's  worth  of  work  a  day,  the  other 
could  produce  only  twelve  and  a  half  cents'  worth.  This 
was  a  very  great  difference  under  those  circumstances,  but 
twelve  and  a  half  cents  is  so  slight  a  proportion  of  fifty 
dollars  as  not  to  be  worth  mentioning.  That  is  to  say,  the 
difference  in  individual  endowments  between  the  two  men 
would  remain  the  same,  but  that  difference  would  be  re- 
duced to  relative  unimportance  by  the  prodigious  equal 
addition  made  to  the  product  of  both  alike  by  the  social 


90  EQUALITY. 

organism.  Or  again,  before  gunpowder  was  invented  one 
man  might  easily  be  worth,  two  as  a  warrior.  The  dif- 
ference between  the  men  as  individuals  remained  what 
it  was ;  yet  the  overwhelming  factor  added  to  the  power 
of  both  alike  by  the  gun  practically  equalized  them  as 
fighters.  Speaking  of  guns,  take  a  still  better  illustration 
— the  relation  of  the  individual  soldiers  in  a  square  of  in- 
fantry to  the  formation.  There  might  be  large  differences 
in  the  fighting  power  of  the  individual  soldiers  singly  out- 
side the  ranks.  Once  in  the  ranks,  however,  the  formation 
added  to  the  fighting  efficiency  of  every  soldier  equally 
an  element  so  overwhelming  as  to  dwarf  the  difference  be- 
tween the  individual  efficiency  of  different  men.  Say,  for 
instance,  that  the  formation  added  ten  to  the  fighting  force 
of  every  member,  then  the  man  who  outside  the  ranks  was 
as  two  to  one  in  power  compared  with  his  comrade  would, 
when  they  both  stood  in  the  ranks,  compare  with  him  only 
as  twelve  to  eleven — an  inconsiderable  difference. 

"  I  need  scarcely  point  out  to  you,  Julian,  the  bearing  of 
the  principle  of  the  social  fund  on  economic  equality  when 
the  industrial  system  was  nationalized.  It  made  it  obvious 
that  even  if  it  were  possible  to  figure  out  in  a  satisfactory 
manner  the  difference  in  the  industrial  products  which  in 
an  accounting  with  the  social  fund  could  be  respectively 
credited  to  differences  in  individual  performance,  the  result 
would  not  be  worth  the  trouble.  Even  the  worker  of  spe- 
cial ability,  who  might  hope  to  gain  most  by  it,  could  not 
hope  to  gain  so  much  as  he  would  lose  in  common  with 
others  by  sacrificing  the  increased  eSiciency  of  the  indus- 
trial machinery  that  would  result  from  the  sentiment  of 
solidarity  and  public  spirit  among  the  workers  arising  from 
a  feeling  of  complete  unity  of  interest." 

"Doctor,"  I  exclaimed,  "I  like  that  idea  of  the  social 
fund  immensely !  It  makes  me  understand,  among  other 
things,  the  completeness  with  which  you  seem  to  have  out- 
grown the  wages  notion,  which  in  one  form  or  other  was 
fundamental  to  all  economic  thought  in  my  day.  It  is  be- 
cause you  are  accustomed  to  regarding  the  social  capital 
rather  than  your  day-to-day  specific  exertions  as  the  main 
som'ce  of   your  wealth.     It  is,  in  a  word,   the  difference 


PRIVATE  CAPITAL  STOLEN  FROM  SOCIAL  FUND.     91 

between  the  attitude  of    the  capitalist    and    the    proleta- 
rian." 

"  Even  so,"  said  the  doctor.     ''  The  Revolution  made  us 
all  capitalists,  and  the  idea  of  the  dividend  has  driven  out 
that  of  the  stipend.   We  take  wages  only  in  honor.   From  our 
point  of  view  as  to  the  collective  ownership  of  the  economic 
machinery  of  the  social  system,  and  the  absolute  claim  of  so- 
ciety collectively  to  its  product,  there  is  something  amusing 
in  tiie  laborious  disputations  by  which  your  contemporaries 
used  to  try  to  settle  just  how  much  or  little  wages  or  com- 
pensation for  services  this  or  that  individual  or  group  was  en- 
titled to.    Why,  dear  me,  Julian,  if  the  cleverest  worker  were 
limited  to  his  own  product,  strictly  separated  and  disthi- 
guished  from  the  elements  by  which  the  use  of  the  social 
machinery  had  multiplied  it,  he  would  fare  no  better  than  a 
half-starved  savage.     Everybody  is  entitled  not  only  to  his 
own  product,  but  to  vastly  more— namely,  to  his  share  of  the 
product  of  the  social  organism,  in  addition  to  his  personal 
product,  but  he  is  entitled  to  this  share  not  on  the  grab-as- 
grab-can  plan  of  your  day,  by  which  some  made  themselves 
millionaires  and  others  were  left  beggars,  but  on  equal  terms 
with  all  his  fellow-capitalists." 

"  The  idea  of  an  unearned  increment  given  to  private 
properties  by  the  social  organism  was  talked  of  in  my 
day,"  I  said,  "but  only,  as  I  remember,  with  reference  to 
land  values.  There  were  reformers  who  held  that  society 
had  the  right  to  take  in  taxes  all  increase  in  value  of  land 
that  resulted  from  social  factors,  such  as  increased  popula- 
tion or  public  improvements,  but  they  seemed  to  think  the 
doctrine  applicable  to  land  only." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  "  and  it  is  rather  odd  that,  having 
hold  of  the  clew,  they  did  not  follow  it  up." 


92  EQUALITY. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

WE   LOOK   OVER  MY   COLLECTION  OF   HARNESSES. 

Wires  for  lig-ht  and  lieat  had  been  put  into  the  vault, 
and  it  was  as  warm  and  bright  and  habitable  a  place  as  it 
had  been  a  century  before,  when  it  was  my  sleeping  cham- 
ber. Kneeling  before  the  door  of  the  safe,  I  at  once  addressed 
myself  to  manipulating  the  dial,  my  companions  meanwhile 
leaning  over  me  in  attitudes  of  eager  interest. 

It  had  been  one  hundred  years  since  I  locked  the  safe 
the  last  time,  and  under  ordinary  circumstances  that  would 
have  been  long  enough  for  me  to  forget  the  combination 
several  times  over,  but  it  was  as  fresh  in  my  mind  as  if  I 
had  devised  it  a  fortnight  before,  that  being,  in  fact,  the 
entire  length  of  the  intervening  period  so  far  as  my  con- 
scious life  was  concerned. 

"  You  observe,"  I  said,  "  that  I  turn  this  dial  until  the  let- 
ter 'K'  comes  opposite  the  letter  'R'  Then  I  move  this 
other  dial  till  the  number  '  9  '  comes  opposite  the  same  point. 
Now  the  safe  is  practically  unlocked.  All  I  have  to  do  to 
open  it  is  to  turn  this  knob,  which  moves  the  bolts,  and  then 
swing  the  door  open,  as  you  see." 

But  they  did  not  see  just  then,  for  the  knob  would  not 
turn,  the  lock  remaining  fast.  I  knew  that  I  had  made 
no  mistake  about  the  combination.  Some  of  the  tumblers 
in  the  lock  had  failed  to  fall.  I  tried  it  over  again  several 
times  and  thumped  the  dial  and  the  door,  but  it  was  of  no 
use.  The  lock  remained  stubborn.  One  might  have  said 
that  its  memory  was  not  as  good  as  mine.  It  had  forgotten* 
the  combination.  A  materialistic  explanation  somewhat 
more  probable  was  that  the  oil  in  the  lock  had  been  hard- 
ened by  time  so  as  to  offer  a  slight  resistance.  The  lock 
could  not  have  rusted,  for  the  atmosphere  of  the  room  had 
been  absolutely  dry.     Otherwise  I  should  not  have  survived. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  disappoint  you,"  I  said,  "  but  we  shall 
have  to  send  to  the  headquarters  of  the  safe  manufacturers 
for  a  locksmith.  I  used  to  know  just  where  in  Sudbury 
Street  to  go,  but  I  suppose  the  safe  business  has  moved  since 
then." 


WE  LOOK  OVER  MY  COLLECTION  OF  HARNESSES.     93 

"  It  has  not  merely  moved,''  said  the  doctor,  "  it  has  dis- 
appeared ;  there  are  safes  like  this  at  the  historical  museum, 
but  I  never  knew  how  they  were  opened  until  now.  It  is 
really  very  ingenious." 

"And  do  you  mean  to  say  that  there  are  actually  no 
locksmiths  to-day  who  could  open  this  safe  ? " 

"Any  machinist  can  cut  the  steel  like  cardboard,"  replied 
the  doctor ;  "  but  really  I  don't  believe  there  is  a  man  in  the 
world  who  could  pick  the  lock.  We  have,  of  course,  simple 
locks  to  insure  privacy  and  keep  children  out  of  mischief, 
but  nothing  calculated  to  ofiPer  serious  resistance  either  to 
force  or  cunning.     The  craft  of  the  locksmith  is  extinct." 

At  this  Edith,  who  was  impatient  to  see  the  safe  opened, 
exclaimed  that  the  twentieth  century  had  nothing  to  boast 
of  if  it  could  not  solve  a  puzzle  which  any  clever  burglar  of 
the  nineteenth  century  was  equal  to. 

"  From  the  point  of  view  of  an  impatient  young  woman 
it  may  seem  so,"  said  the  doctor.  "But  we  must  remember 
that  lost  arts  often  are  monuments  of  human  progi^ess,  in- 
dicating outgrown  limitations  and  necessities,  to  Avliich  they 
ministered.  It  is  because  we  have  no  more  thieves  that  we 
have  no  more  locksmiths.  Poor  Julian  had  to  go  to  all  this 
pains  to  protect  the  x^apers  in  that  safe,  because  if  he  lost 
them  he  would  be  left  a  beggar,  and,  from  being  one  of  the 
masters  of  the  many,  would  have  become  one  of  the  servants 
of  the  few,  and  perhaps  be  tempted  to  turn  burglar  himself. 
No  wonder  locksmiths  were  in  demand  in  those  days.  But 
now  you  see,  even  supposing  any  one  in  a  community  en- 
jojdng  universal  and  equal  wealth  could  wish  to  steal  any- 
thing, there  is  nothing  that  he  could  steal  with  a  view  to 
selling  it  again.  Our  wealth  consists  in  the  guarantee  of  an 
equal  share  in  the  capital  and  income  of  the  nation — a  guar- 
antee that  is  personal  and  can  not  be  taken  from  us  nor  given 
away,  being  vested  in  each  one  at  birth,  and  divested  only 
by  death.  So  you  see  the  locksmith  and  safe-maker  would 
be  very  useless  persons." 

As  we  talked,  I  had  continued  to  work  the  dial  in  the 
hope  that  the  obstinate  tumbler  might  be  coaxed  to  act,  and 
presently  a  faint  click  rewarded  my  efforts  and  I  swung 
the  door  open. 


94  EQUALITY. 

"  Faug-h ! "  exclaimed  Edith  at  the  musty  gust  of  con- 
fined air  which  followed.  ''  I  am  sorry  for  your  people  if 
that  is  a  fair  sample  of  what  you  had  to  breathe." 

"  It  is  probably  about  the  only  sample  left,  at  any  rate," 
observed  the  doctor. 

"  Dear  me  !  what  a  ridiculous  little  box  it  turns  out  to  be 
for  such  a  pretentious  outside !  "  exclaimed  Edith's  mother. 

"  Yes,"  said  I.  "  The  thick  w^alls  are  to  make  the  con- 
tents fireproof  as  well  as  burglar-proof — and,  by  the  way,  I 
should  think  you  would  need  fireproof  safes  still." 

"  We  have  no  fires,  except  in  the  old  structures,"  replied 
the  doctor.  "  Since  building"  was  undertaken  by  the  people 
collectively,  you  see  we  could  not  afford  to  have  them,  for 
destruction  of  property  means  to  the  nation  a  dead  loss, 
while  under  private  ca23italism  the  loss  iniglit  be  shuffled  off 
on  others  in  all  sorts  of  ways.  They  could  get  insured,  but 
the  nation  has  to  insure  itself." 

Opening  the  inner  door  of  the  safe,  I  took  out  several 
drawers  full  of  securities  of  all  sorts,  and  emptied  them  on 
the  table  in  the  room. 

''  Are  these  stuffy-looking  papers  w^hat  you  used  to  call 
wealth  ? "  said  Edith,  w4th  evident  disappointment. 

"Not  the  papers  in  themselves,"  I  said,  "but  what  tliey 
represented." 

•'  And  what  was  that  ? "  she  asked. 

"  The  ownership  of  land,  houses,  mills,  ships,  railroads, 
and  all  manner  of  other  things,"  I  replied,  and  went  on  as 
best  I  could  to  explain  to  her  mother  and  herself  about 
rents,  profits,  interest,  dividends,  etc.  But  it  was  evident, 
from  the  blank  expression  of  their  countenances,  that  I  was 
not  making  much  headway. 

Presently  the  doctor  looked  up  from  the  papers  which  he 
was  devouring  with  the  zeal  of  an  antiquarian,  and  chuckled. 

"  I  am  afraid,  Julian,  you  are  on  the  wrong  tack.  You 
see  economic  science  in  your  day  was  a  science  of  things  ;  in 
our  day  it  is  a  science  of  human  beings.  We  have  nothing 
at  all  answering  to  your  rent,  interest,  profits,  or  other 
financial  devices,  and  the  terms  expressing  them  have  no 
meaning  now  except  to  students.  If  you  wish  Edith  and 
her  mother  to  understand  you,  you  must  translate  these 


WE  LOOK  OVER  MY  COLLECTION  OF  HARNESSES.     95 

money  terms  into  terms  of  men  and  women  and  children, 
and  the  plain  facts  of  their  relations  as  affected  hy  your 
system.  Shall  you  consider  it  impertinent  if  I  try  to  make 
the  matter  a  little  clearer  to  them  ? " 

"  I  shall  be  much  obliged  to  you,"  I  said  ;  "  and  perhaps 
you  will  at  the  same  time  make  it  clearer  to  me." 

''  I  think,"  said  the  doctor,  ''  that  we  shall  all  understand 
the  nature  and  value  of  these  documents  much  better  if,  in- 
stead of  speaking  of  them  as  titles  of  ownership  in  farms, 
factories,  mines,  railroads,  etc.,  we  state  plainly  that  they 
were  evidences  that  their  possessors  were  the  masters  of  vari- 
ous groups  of  men,  women,  and  children  in  different  parts  of 
the  country.  Of  course,  as  Julian  says,  the  documents  nom- 
inally state  his  title  to  things  only,  and  say  nothing  about 
men  and  women.  But  it  is  the  men  and  women  who  went 
with  the  lands,  the  machines,  and  various  other  things,  and 
were  bound  to  them  by  their  bodily  necessities,  which  gave 
all  the  value  to  the  possession  of  the  things. 

''  But  for  the  implication  that  there  were  men  who,  be- 
cause they  must  have  the  use  of  the  land,  would  submit  to 
labor  for  the  owner  of  it  in  return  for  permission  to  occupy 
it,  these  deeds  and  mortgages  would  have  been  of  no  value. 
So  of  these  factory  shares.  They  speak  only  of  water  power 
and  looms,  but  they  would  be  valueless  but  for  the  thou- 
sands of  human  workers  bound  to  the  machines  by  bodily 
necessities  as  fixedly  as  if  they  were  chained  there.  So  of 
these  coal-mine  shares.  But  for  the  multitude  of  wretched 
beings  condemned  by  want  to  labor  in  living  graves,  of 
what  value  would  have  been  these  shares  which  yet  make 
no  mention  of  them  ?  And  see  again  how  significant  is  the 
fact  that  it  was  deemed  needless  to  make  mention  of  and  to 
enumerate  by  name  these  serfs  of  the  field,  of  the  loom,  of 
the  mine !  Under  systems  of  chattel  slavery,  such  as  had 
formerly  prevailed,  it  was  necessary  to  name  and  identify 
each  chattel,  that  he  might  be  recovered  in  case  of  escape, 
and  an  account  made  of  the  loss  in  case  of  death.  But 
there  was  no  danger  of  loss  by  the  escape  or  the  death  of 
the  serfs  transferred  by  these  documents.  They  would  not 
run  away,  for  there  was  nothing  better  to  run  to  or  any 
escape  from  the  world-wide  economic  system  which  en- 


96  EQUALITY. 

thralled  them  ;  and  if  they  died,  that  involved  no  loss  to 
their  owners,  for  there  were  always  plenty  more  to  take 
their  places.  Decidedly,  it  would  have  been  a  waste  of 
paper  to  enumerate  them. 

"Just  now  at  the  breakfast  table,''  continued  the  doctor, 
"  I  was  explaining  the  modern  view  of  the  economic  system 
of  private  capitalism  as  one  based  on  the  compulsory  servi- 
tude of  the  masses  to  the  caj^italists,  a  servitude  which  the 
latter  enforced  by  monopolizing  the  bulk  of  the  world's  re- 
sources and  rnachinery,  leaving  the  pressure  of  want  to  com- 
pel the  masses  to  accept  their  yoke,  the  police  and  soldiers 
meanwhile  defending  them  in  their  monopolies.  These  doc- 
uments turn  up  in  a  very  timely  way  to  illustrate  the  in- 
genious and  effectual  methods  by  which  the  different  sorts 
of  workers  were  organized  for  the  service  of  the  capitalists. 
To  use  a  plain  illustration,  these  various  sorts  of  so-called 
securities  may  be  described  as  so  many  kinds  of  human 
harness  by  which  the  masses,  broken  and  tamed  by  the 
pressure  of  want,  were  yoked  and  strapped  to  the  chariots  of 
the  capitalists. 

"  For  instance,  here  is  a  bundle  of  farm  mortgages  on 
Kansas  farms.  Very  good  ;  by  virtue  of  the  operation  of 
this  security  certain  Kansas  farmers  worked  for  the  owner 
of  it,  and  though  they  might  never  know  who  he  was  nor 
he  who  they  were,  yet  they  were  as  securely  and  certainly 
his  thralls  as  if  he  had  stood  over  them  with  a  whip  instead 
of  sitting  in  his  parlor  at  Boston,  New  York,  or  London. 
This  mortgage  harness  was  generally  used  to  hitch  in  the 
agricultural  class  of  the  population.  Most  of  the  farmers 
of  the  West  were  pulling  in  it  toward  the  end  of  the  nine- 
teenth century. — Was  it  not  so,  Julian  ?  Correct  me  if  I  am 
wrong." 

"  You  are  stating  the  facts  very  accurately,"  I  answered. 
*'  I  am  beginning  to  understand  more  clearly  the  nature  of 
my  former  property." 

"  Now  let  us  see  what  this  bundle  is,"  pursued  the  doctor. 
"  Ah  !  yes  ;  these  are  shares  in  New  England  cotton  factories. 
This  sort  of  harness  was  chiefly  used  for  women  and  chil- 
dren, the  sizes  ranging  away  down  so  as  to  fit  girls  and 
boys  of  eleven  and  twelve.    It  used  to  be  said  that  it  was 


WE  LOOK  OVER  MY  COLLECTION  OF  HARNESSES.     97 

only  the  margin  of  profit  furnished  by  the  ahnost  costless 
labor  of  the  little  children  that  made  these  factories  paying 
properties.  The  population  of  New  England  Avas  largely 
broken  in  at  a  very  tender  age  to  Avork  in  this  style  of  har- 
ness. 

"Here,  now,  is  a  little  different  sort.  These  are  rail- 
road, gas,  and  water-works  shares.  They  were  a  sort  of 
comprehensive  harness,  by  which  not  only  a  particular  class 
of  workers  but  whole  communities  were  hitched  in  and 
made  to  work  for  the  owner  of  the  security. 

"  And,  finally,  we  have  here  the  strongest  harness  of  all, 
the  Government  bond.  This  document,  you  see,  is  a  bond 
of  the  United  States  Government.  By  it  seventy  million 
people— the  whole  nation,  in  fact— were  harnessed  to  the 
coach  of  the  owner  of  this  bond ;  and,  what  was  more,  the 
driver  in  this  case  was  the  Government  itself,  against  which 
the  team  would  find  it  hard  to  kick.  There  was  a  great 
deal  of  kicking  and  balking  in  the  other  sorts  of  harness, 
and  the  capitalists  were  often  inconvenienced  and  tempo- 
rarily deprived  of  the  labor  of  the  men  they  had  bought 
and  paid  for  with  good  money.  Naturally,  therefore,  the 
Government  bond  was  greatly  prized  by  them  as  an  in- 
vestment. They  used  every  possible  effort  to  induce  the 
various  governments  to  put  more  and  more  of  this  sort  of 
Jiarness  on  the  people,  and  the  governments,  being  carried 
on  by  the  agents  of  the  capitalists,  of  course  kept  on  doing 
so,  up  to  the  very  eve  of  the  great  Revolution,  which  was  to 
turn  the  bonds  and  all  the  other  harnesses  into  waste  paper." 

"  As  a  representative  of  the  nineteenth  century,"  I  said, 
'*  I  can  not  deny  the  substantial  correctness  of  your  rather 
startling  way  of  describing  our  system  of  investments. 
Still,  you  will  admit  that,  bad  as  the  system  was  and  bitter 
as  was  the  condition  of  the  masses  under  it,  the  function 
performed  by  the  capitalists  in  organizing  and  directing 
such  industry  as  we  had  was  a  service  to  the  world  of  some 
value." 

"  Certainly,  certainly,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  The  same 
plea  might  be  urged,  and  has  been,  in  defense  of  every 
system  by  which  men  have  ever  made  other  men  their 
servants   from   the   beginning.      There   was   always   some 


98  EQUALITY. 

service,  generally  valuable  and  indispensable,  wbicb  the 
oppressors  could  urge  and  did  urge  as  the  ground  and  ex- 
cuse of  the  servitude  they  enforced.  As  men  grew  wiser 
they  observed  that  they  were  paying  a  ruinous  price  for 
the  services  thus  rendered.  So  at  first  they  said  to  the 
kings  :  '  To  be  sure,  you  help  defend  the  state  from  foreign- 
ers and  hang  thieves,  but  it  is  too  much  to  ask  us  to  be  your 
serfs  in  exchange  ;  we  can  do  better. '  And  so  they  established 
republics.  So  also,  presently,  the  people  said  to  the  priests : 
'  You  have  done  something  for  us,  but  you  have  charged 
too  much  for  your  services  in  asking  us  to  submit  our 
minds  to  you  ;  we  can  do  better.'  And  so  they  established 
religious  liberty. 

"  And  likewise,  in  this  last  matter  we  are  speaking  of,  the 
people  finally  said  to  the  capitalists  :  '  Yes,  you  have  organ- 
ized onr  industry,  but  at  the  price  of  enslaving  us.  We  can 
do  better.'  And  substituting  national  co-operation  for  capi- 
talism, they  established  the  industrial  republic  based  on  eco- 
nomic democracy.  If  it  were  true,  Julian,  that  any  considera- 
tion of  service  rendered  to  others,  however  valuable,  could 
excuse  the  benefactors  for  making  bondmen  of  the  bene- 
fited, then  there  never  was  a  despotism  or  slave  system 
which  could  not  excuse  itself." 

"  Haven't  you  some  real  money  to  show  us,"  said  Edith, 
"  something  besides  these  papers — some  gold  and  silver  such 
as  they  have  at  the  museum  ?  " 

It  was  not  customary  in  the  nineteenth  century  for  peo- 
ple to  keep  large  supplies  of  ready  money  in  their  houses, 
but  for  emergencies  I  had  a  little  stock  of  it  in  my  safe,  and 
in  response  to  Edith's  request  I  took  out  a  drawer  containing 
several  hundred  dollars  in  gold  and  emptied  it  on  the  table. 

"  How  pretty  they  are  ! "  exclaimed  Edith,  thrusting  her 
hands  in  the  pile  of  yellow  coins  and  clinking  them  to- 
gether. "  And  is  it  really  true  that  if  you  only  had  enough 
of  these  things,  no  matter  how  or  where  you  got  them,  men 
and  w^omen  would  submit  themselves  to  you  and  let  you 
make  what  use  you  pleased  of  tliem  ?  " 

"  Not  only  would  they  let  you  use  them  as  you  pleased, 
but  they  would  be  extremely  grateful  to  you  for  being  so 
good  as  to  use  them  instead  of  others.     The  poor  fought 


WE  LOOK  OYER  MY  COLLECTION  OF  HARNESSES.     99 

each  other  for  the  privilege  of  being*  the  servants  and  under- 
lings of  those  who  had  tlie  money." 

"  Now  I  see,"  said  Edith,  "  what  the  Masters  of  the 
Bread  meant." 

"  What  is  that  about  Masters  of  the  Bread  ? "  I  asked. 
"  Who  were  they  ?  " 

"  It  was  a  name  given  to  the  capitalists  in  the  revolution- 
ary period,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  This  thing  Edith  speaks  of 
is  a  scrap  of  the  literature  of  that  time,  when  the  people  first 
began  to  fully  wake  uj)  to  the  fact  that  class  monopoly  of 
the  machinery  of  production  meant  slavery  for  the  mass." 

"  Let  me  see  if  I  can  recall  it,"  said  Edith.  "  It  begins 
this  way  :  '  Everywhere  men,  women,  and  children  stood  in 
the  market-place  crying  to  the  Masters  of  the  Bread  to  take 
them  to  be  their  servants,  that  they  might  have  bread.  The 
strong  men  said  :  "  O  Lords  of  the  Bread,  feel  our  thews 
and  sinews,  our  arms  and  our  legs ;  see  how  strong  we  are. 
Take  us  and  use  us.  Let  us  dig  for  you.  Let  us  hew  for 
you.  Let  us  go  down  in  the  mine  and  delve  for  you.  Let 
us  freeze  and  starve  in  the  forecastles  of  your  ships.  Send 
us  into  the  hells  of  your  steamship  stokeholes.  Do  what 
you  will  with  us,  but  let  us  serve  you,  that  we  may  eat  and 
not  die ! " 

'' '  Then  spoke  up  also  the  learned  men,  the  scribes  and  the 
lawyers,  whose  strength  was  in  their  brains  and  not  in  their 
bodies :  "  O  Masters  of  the  Bread,"  they  said,  "  take  us  to 
be  your  servants  and  to  do  your  will.  See  how  fine  is  our 
wit,  how  great  our  knowledge  ;  our  minds  are  stored  with 
the  treasures  of  learning  and  the  subtlety  of  all  the  philoso- 
phies. To  us  has  been  given  clearer  vision  than  to  others, 
and  the  power  of  persuasion  that  we  should  be  leaders  of 
the  people,  voices  to  the  voiceless,  and  eyes  to  the  blind. 
But  the  people  whom  we  should  serve  have  no  bread  to 
give  us.  Therefore,  Masters  of  the  Bread,  give  us  to  eat, 
and  we  will  betray  the  people  to  you,  for  we  must  live.  We 
will  plead  for  you  in  the  comets  against  the  widow  and  the 
fatherless.  We  will  speak  and  write  in  your  praise,  and 
with  cunning  words  confound  those  who  speak  against  you 
and  your  power  and  state.  And  nothing  that  you  require 
of  us  shall  seem  too  much.     But  because  we  sell  not  only 


100  EQUALITY. 

our  bodies,  but  our  souls  also,  give  us  more  bread  than  tliese 
laborers  receive,  who  sell  their  bodies  only." 

"  '  And  the  priests  and  Levites  also  cried  out  as  the  Lords 
of  the  Bread  passed  through  the  market-place  :  "  Take  us, 
Masters,  to  be  your  servants  and  to  do  your  will,  for  we 
also  must  eat,  and  you  only  have  the  bread.  We  are  the 
guardians  of  the  sacred  oracles,  and  the  people  hearken 
unto  us  and  reply  not,  for  our  voice  to  them  is  as  the  voice 
of  God.  But  we  must  have  bread  to  eat  like  others.  Give 
us  therefore  plentifully  of  your  bread,  and  we  will  speak  to 
the  people,  that  they  be  still  and  trouble  you  not  with  their 
murmurings  because  of  hunger.  In  the  name  of  God  the 
Father  will  we  forbid  them  to  claim  the  rights  of  brothers, 
and  in  the  name  of  the  Prince  of  Peace  will  we  preach 
your  law  of  competition." 

"  '  And  above  all  the  clamor  of  the  men  were  heard  the 
voices  of  a  multitude  of  women  crying  to  the  Masters  of 
the  Bread  :  "  Pass  us  not  by,  for  we  must  also  eat.  The  men 
are  stronger  than  we,  but  they  eat  much  bread  while  we  eat 
little,  so  that  though  we  be  not  so  strong  yet  in  the  end  you 
shall  not  lose  if  you  take  us  to  be  your  servants  instead  of 
them.  And  if  you  will  not  take  us  for  our  labor's  sake,  yet 
look  upon  us ;  we  are  women,  and  should  be  fair  in  your 
eyes.  Take  us  and  do  with  us  according  to  your  pleasure, 
for  we  must  eat." 

"  '  And  above  all  the  chaffering  of  the  market,  the  hoarse 
voices  of  the  men,  and  the  shrill  voices  of  the  women,  rose 
the  piping  treble  of  the  little  children,  crying  :  "  Take  us  to 
be  your  servants,  for  the  breasts  of  our  mothers  are  dry  and 
our  fathers  have  no  bread  for  us,  and  we  hunger.  We  are 
weak,  indeed,  but  we  ask  so  little,  so  very  little,  that  at  last 
we  shall  be  cheaper  to  you  than  the  men,  our  fathers,  who 
eat  so  much,  and  the  women,  our  mothers,  who  eat  more 
than  we." 

"  '  And  the  Masters  of  the  Bread,  having  taken  for  their  use 
or  pleasure  such  of  the  men,  the  women,  and  the  little  ones 
as  they  saw  fit,  passed  by.  And  there  was  left  a  great  mul- 
titude in  the  market-place  for  whom  there  was  no  bread.'  " 

"Ah  !"  said  the  doctor,  breaking  the  silence  which  fol- 
lowed the  ceasing  of  Edith's  voice,  "  it  was  indeed  the  last 


WE  LOOK  OVER  MY  COLLECTION  OF  HARNESSES.  101 

refinement  of  indignity  put  upon  luniian  nature  by  your 
economic  system  that  it  compelled  men  to  seek  the  sale  of 
themselves.  Voluntary  in  a  real  sense  the  sale  was  not,  of 
course,  for  want  or  the  fear  of  it  left  no  choice  as  to  the 
necessity  of  selling  themselves  to  somebody,  but  as  to  the 
particular  transaction  there  was  choice  enough  to  make  it 
shameful.  They  had  to  seek  those  to  whom  to  offer  them- 
selves and  actively  to  procure  their  own  purchase.  In  this 
respect  the  submission  of  men  to  other  men  through  the  rela- 
tion of  hire  was  more  abject  than  under  a  slavery  resting  di- 
rectly on  force.  In  that  case  the  slave  might  be  compelled 
to  yield  to  physical  duress,  but  he  could  still  keep  a  mind 
free  and  resentful  toward  his  master  ;  but  in  the  relation  of 
hire  men  sought  for  their  masters  and  begged  as  a  favor 
that  they  would  use  them,  body  and  mind,  for  their  profit 
or  pleasure.  To  the  view  of  us  moderns,  therefore,  the 
chattel  slave  was  a  more  dignified  and  heroic  figure  than 
the  hireling  of  your  day  who  called  himself  a  free  worker. 

"  It  was  possible  for  the  slave  to  rise  in  soul  above  his 
circumstances  and  be  a  x^liilosopher  in  bondage  like  Epicte- 
tus,  but  the  hireling  could  not  scorn  the  bonds  he  sought. 
The  abjectness  of  his  position  was  not  merely  physical  but 
mental.  In  selling  himself  he  had  necessarily  sold  his  in- 
dependence of  mind  also.  Your  whole  industrial  system 
seems  in  this  point  of  view  best  and  most  fitly  described  by 
a  word  which  you  oddly  enough  reserved  to  designate  a  par- 
ticular phase  of  self -selling  practiced  by  women. 

"  Labor  for  others  in  the  name  of  love  and  kindness,  and 
labor  with  others  for  a  common  end  in  which  all  are  mutu- 
ally interested,  and  labor  for  its  own  joy,  are  alike  honor- 
able, but  the  hiring  out  of  our  faculties  to  the  selfish  uses  of 
others,  which  was  the  form  labor  generally  took  in  your 
day,  is  unworthy  of  human  nature.  The  Ee volution  for  the 
first  time  in  history  made  labor  truly  honorable  by  putting 
it  on  the  basis  of  fraternal  co-operation  for  a  common  and 
equally  shared  result.  Until  then  it  was  at  best  but  a 
shameful  necessity." 

Presently  I  said  :  "  When  you  have  satisfied  your  curi- 
osity as  to  these  papers  I  suppose  we  might  as  well  make  a 
bonfire  of  them,  for  they  seem  to  have  no  more  value  now 


102  EQUALITY. 

than  a  collection  of  heathen  fetiches  after  the  former  -wor- 
shipers have  embraced  Christianity." 

"  Well,  and  has  not  such  a  collection  a  value  to  the  stu- 
dent of  history  ?  "  said  the  doctor.  "  Of  course,  these  docu- 
ments are  scarcely  now  valuable  in  the  sense  they  were, 
but  in  another  they  have  much  value.  I  see  among 
them  several  varieties  which  are  quite  scarce  in  the  his- 
torical collections,  and  if  you  feel  disposed  to  present 
the  v/hole  lot  to  our  museum  I  am  sure  the  gift  will  be 
much  appreciated.  The  fact  is,  the  great  bonfire  our  grand- 
fathers made,  while  a  very  natural  and  excusable  expression 
of  jubilation  over  broken  bondage,  is  much  to  be  regretted 
from  an  archaeological  point  of  view." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  the  gi'eat  bonfire  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  It  was  a  rather  dramatic  incident  at  the  close  of  the  great 
Revolution.  When  the  long  struggle  was  ended  and  eco- 
nomic equality,  guaranteed  by  the  public  administration  of 
capital,  had  been  established,  the  people  got  together  from 
all  parts  of  the  land  enormous  collections  of  what  you  used 
to  call  the  evidences  of  value,  which,  while  purporting  to  be 
certificates  of  property  in  things,  had  been  really  certificates 
of  the  ownership  of  men,  deriving,  as  we  have  seen,  their 
whole  value  from  the  serfs  attached  to  the  things  by  the  con- 
straint of  bodily  necessities.  These  it  pleased  the  people — ex- 
alted, as  you  may  well  imagine,  by  the  afflatus  of  liberty— to 
collect  in  a  vast  mass  on  the  site  of  the  New  York  Stock  Ex- 
change, the  great  altar  of  Plutus,  whereon  millions  of  hu- 
man beings  had  been  sacrificed  to  him,  and  there  to  make  a 
bonfire  of  them.  A  great  pillar  stands  on  the  spot  to-day, 
and  from  its  summit  a  mighty  torch  of  electric  flame  is  al- 
ways streaming,  in  commemoration  of  that  event  and  as  a 
testimony  forever  to  the  ending  of  the  parchment  bondage 
that  was  heavier  than  the  scepters  of  kings.  It  is  estimated 
that  certificates  of  ownership  in  human  beings,  or,  as  you 
called  them,  titles  to  property,  to  the  value  of  forty  billion 
dollars,  together  with  hundreds  of  millions  of  paper  money, 
went  up  in  that  great  blaze,  which  we  devoutly  consider 
must  have  been,  of  all  the  innumerable  burnt  sacrifices 
which  have  been  offered  up  to  God  from  the  beginning,  the 
one  that  pleased  him  best. 


WHAT  WE  WERE  COMING  TO.  103 

"  Now,  if  I  had  been  there,  I  can  easily  imagine  that  I 
should  have  rejoiced  over  that  conflagration  as  much  as  did 
the  most  exultant  of  those  who  danced  about  it ;  but  from 
the  calmer  point  of  view  of  the  present  I  regret  the  destruc- 
tion of  a  mass  of  historic  material.  So  you  see  that  your 
bonds  and  deeds  and  mortgages  and  shares  of  stock  are 
really  valuable  still." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

WHAT  WE  WERE   COMING  TO  BUT   FOR  THE   REVOLUTION. 

"We  read  in  the  histories,^'  said  Edith's  mother,  "much 
about  the  amazing  extent  to  which  particular  individuals 
and  families  succeeded  in  concentrating  in  their  own  hands 
the  natural  resources,  industrial  machinery,  and  products 
of  the  several  countries.  Julian  had  only  a  million  dollars, 
but  many  individuals  or  families  had,  we  are  told,  wealth 
amounting  to  fifty,  a  hundred,  and  even  two  or  three  hun- 
dred millions.  We  read  of  infants  who  in  the  cradle  were 
heirs  of  hundreds  of  millions.  Now,  something  I  never  sav7 
mentioned  in  the  books  was  the  limit,  for  there  must  have 
been  some  limit  fixed,  to  which  one  individual  might  appro- 
priate the  earth's  surface  and  resources,  the  means  of  pro- 
duction, and  the  products  of  labor." 

''  There  was  no  limit,"  I  replied. 

"  Do  you  mean,"  exclaimed  Edith,  "  that  if  a  man  were 
only  clever  and  unscrupulous  enough  he  might  appropriate, 
saj]  the  entire  territory  of  a  country  and  leave  the  people 
actually  nothing  to  stand  on  unless  by  his  consent  ? " 

"  Certainly,"  I  replied.  "  In  fact,  in  many  countries  of 
the  Old  World  individuals  owned  whole  provinces,  and  in 
the  United  States  even  vaster  tracts  had  passed  and  were 
passing  into  private  and  corporate  hands.  There  was  no 
limit  whatever  to  the  extent  of  land  which  one  person 
might  own,  and  of  course  this  ownership  implied  the  right 
to  evict  every  human  being  from  the  territory  unless  the 
owner  chose  to  let  individuals  remain  on  payment  of 
tribute." 


104  EQUALITY. 

"  And  how  about  other  things  besides  land  ? "  asked 
Edith. 

"  It  was  the  same,"  I  said.  "There  was  no  limit  to  the 
extent  to  which  an  individual  might  acquire  the  exclusive 
ownership  of  all  the  factories,  shops,  mines,  and  means  of 
industry,  and  commerce  of  every  sort,  so  that  no  person 
could  find  an  opportunity  to  earn  a  living  except  as  the 
servant  of  the  ow^ier  and  on  his  terms." 

''  If  we  are  correctly  informed,"  said  the  doctor,  "  the 
concentration  of  the  ownershij)  of  the  machinery  of  pro- 
duction and  distribution,  trade  and  industry,  had  already, 
before  you  fell  asleep,  been  carried  to  a  point  in  the  United 
States  through  trusts  and  syndicates  which  excited  general 
alarm." 

"  Certainly,"  I  replied.  "  It  was  then  already  in  the 
power  of  a  score  of  men  in  New  York  city  to  stop  at  will 
every  car  wheel  in  the  United  States,  and  the  combined 
action  of  a  few  other  groups  of  capitalists  would  have 
sufficed  practically  to  arrest  the  industries  and  commerce  of 
the  entire  country,  forbid  employment  to  everybody,  and 
starve  the  entire  population.  The  self-interest  of  these  capi- 
talists in  keeping  business  going  on  w^as  the  only  ground  of 
assurance  the  rest  of  the  people  had  for  their  livelihood 
from  day  to  day.  Indeed,  when  the  capitalists  desired  to 
compel  the  people  to  vote  as  they  wished,  it  was  their  regu- 
lar custom  to  threaten  to  stop  the  industries  of  the  country 
and  produce  a  business  crisis  if  the  election  did  not  go  to 
suit  them." 

"  Suppose,  Julian,  an  individual  or  family  or  group  of 
capitalists,  having  become  sole  owners  of  all  the  land  and 
machinery  of  one  nation,  should  wish  to  go  on  and  acquire 
the  sole  ownership  of  all  the  land  and  economic  means  and 
machinery  of  the  whole  earth,  would  that  have  been  incon- 
sistent with  your  law  of  property  ? " 

"  Not  at  all.  If  one  individual,  as  you  suggest,  through 
the  effect  of  cunning  and  skill  combined  wdth  inheritances, 
should  obtain  a  legal  title  to  the  whole  globe,  it  would  be 
his  to  do  what  he  pleased  with  as  absolutely  as  if  it  were  a 
garden  patch,  according  to  our  law  of  property.  Nor  is 
your    supposition   about   one  person   or   family  becoming 


WHAT  WE  WERE   COMING  TO.  105 

owner  of  the  whole  earth  a  wholly  fanciful  one.  There 
was,  when  I  fell  asleep,  one  family  of  European  bankers 
whose  world-wide  power  and  resources  were  so  vast  and  in- 
creasing at  such  a  j^rodig-ious  and  accelerating  rate  that  they 
had  already  an  inliuence  over  the  destinies  of  nations  wider 
than  perhaps  any  monarch  ever  exercised." 

"  And  if  I  understand  your  system,  if  they  had  gone  on 
and  attained  the  ownership  of  the  globe  to  the  lowest  inch 
of  standing  room  at  low  tide,  it  would  have  been  the  legal 
right  of  that  familj'  or  single  individual,  in  the  name  of  the 
sacred  right  of  property,  to  give  the  people  of  the  human 
race  legal  notice  to  move  off  the  earth,  and  in  case  of  their 
failure  to  comply  with  the  requirement  of  the  notice,  to  call 
upon  them  in  the  name  of  the  law  to  form  themselves  into 
sheriffs'  j^osses  and  evict  themselves  from  the  earth's  sur- 
face ?  '* 

"  Unquestionably." 

"  O  father,"  exclaimed  Edith,  "  you  and  Julian  are  try- 
ing to  make  fun  of  us.  You  must  think  we  will  believe 
any  tiling  if  you  only  keep  straight  faces.  But  you  are  going 
too  far." 

"  I  do  not  wonder  you  think  so,"  said  the  doctor.  "  But 
you  can  easily  satisfy  yourself  from  the  books  that  we  have 
in  no  way  exaggerated  the  possibilities  of  the  old  system  of 
property.  What  was  called  under  that  system  the  right  of 
property  meant  the  unlimited  right  of  anybody  who  was 
clever  enough  to  deprive  everybody  else  of  any  property 
whatever." 

"  It  would  seem,  then,"  said  Edith,  "  that  the  dream  of 
world  conquest  by  an  individual,  if  ever  realized,  w^as  more 
likely  under  the  old  regime  to  be  realized  by  economic  than 
by  military  means." 

"  Very  true,"  said  the  doctor.  "  Alexander  and  Napoleon 
mistook  their  trade ;  they  should  have  been  bankers,  not 
soldiers.  But,  indeed,  the  time  was  not  in  their  day  ripe  for 
a  world-wide  money  dynasty,  such  as  we  have  been  speak- 
ing of.  Kings  had  a  rude  way  of  interfering  with  the  so- 
called  rights  of  property  when  they  conflicted  with  royal 
prestige  or  produced  dangerous  popular  discontent.  Ty- 
rants themselves,  they  did  not  willingly  brook  rival  tyrants 


106  EQUALITY. 

iu  their  dominions.  It  was  not  till  the  kings  had  been  shorn 
of  power  and  the  interregnum  of  sham  democracy  had  set 
in,  leaving  no  virile  force  in  the  state  or  the  world  to  resist 
the  money  power,  that  the  opportunity  for  a  world-wide 
plutocratic  despotism  arrived.  Then,  in  the  latter  part  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  when  international  trade  and  finan- 
cial relations  had  broken  down  national  barriers  and  the 
world  had  become  one  field  of  economic  enterprise,  did  the 
idea  of  a  universally  dominant  and  centralized  money  power 
become  not  only  possible,  but,  as  Julian  has  said,  had  already 
so  far  materialized  itself  as  to  cast  its  shadow  before.  If  the 
Eevolution  had  not  come  when  it  did,  we  can  not  doubt  that 
something  like  this  universal  plutocratic  dynasty  or  some 
highly  centered  oligarchy,  based  upon  the  complete  mo- 
nopoly of  all  property  by  a  small  body,  would  long  before 
this  time  have  become  the  government  of  the  world.  But 
of  course  the  Revolution  must  have  come  when  it  did,  so  we 
need  not  talk  of  what  would  have  happened  if  it  had  not 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

AN  EXCUSE   THAT   CONDEMNED. 

*'  I  HAVE  read,"  said  Edith,  "  that  there  never  was  a  sys- 
tem of  oppression  so  bad  that  those  who  benefited  by  it  did 
not  recognize  the  moral  sense  so  far  as  to  make  some  excuse 
for  themselves.  Was  the  old  system  of  property  distribu- 
tion, by  which  the  few  held  the  many  in  servitude  through 
fear  of  starvation,  an  exception  to  this  rule  ?  Surely  the 
rich  could  not  have  looked  the  poor  in  the  face  unless  they 
had  some  excuse  to  ofiPer,  some  color  of  reason  to  give  for 
the  cruel  contrast  between  their  conditions." 

"  Thanks  for  reminding  us  of  that  point,"  said  the  doc- 
tor. "  As  you  say,  there  never  was  a  system  so  bad  that  it 
did  not  make  an  excuse  for  itself.  It  would  not  be  strictly 
fair  to  the  old  system  to  dismiss  it  without  considering  the 
excuse  made  for  it,  although,  on  the  other  hand,  it  would 
really  be  kinder  not  to  mention  it,  for  it  was  an  excuse  that, 


AN  EXCUSE  THAT  CONDEMNED.  107 

far  from  excusing;,  furnislied  an  additional  ground  of  con- 
demnation for  the  system  which  it  undertook  to  justify." 

"  What  was  the  excuse  ? "  asked  Edith. 
'  "  It  was  the  claim  that,  as  a  matter  of  justice,  every  one 
is  entitled  to  the  effect  of  his  qualities— that  is  to  say,  the 
result  of  his  abilities,  the  fruit  of  his  efforts.  The  qualities, 
abilities,  and  efforts  of  different  persons  being  different,  they 
would  naturally  acquire  advantages  over  others  in  wealth 
seeking  as  in  other  ways ;  but  as  this  was  according  to  Na- 
ture, it\^as  urged  that  it  must  be  right,  and  nobody  had  any 
business  to  complain,  unless  of  the  Creator. 

"  Now,  in  the  first  place,  the  theory  that  a  person  has  a 
right  in  dealing  with  his  fellows  to  take  advantage  of  his 
superior  abilities  is  nothing  other  than  a  slightly  more 
roundabout  expression  of  the  doctrine  that  might  is  right. 
It  was  precisely  to  prevent  their  doing  this  that  the  police- 
man stood  on  the  corner,  the  judge  sat  on  the  bench,  and 
the  hangman  drew  his  fees.  The  whole  end  and  amount  of 
civilization  had  indeed  been  to  substitute  for  the  natural 
law  of  superior  might  an  artificial  equality  by  force  of  stat- 
ute, whereby,  in  disregard  of  their  natural  differences,  the 
weak  and  simple  were  made  equal  to  the  strong  and  cun- 
ning by  means  of  the  collective  force  lent  them. 

''But  while  the  nineteenth-century  moralists  denied  as 
sharply  as  we  do  men's  right  to  take  advantage  of  their 
superiorities  in  direct  dealings  by  physical  force,  they  held 
that  they  might  rightly  do  so  when  the  dealings  were  indi- 
rect and  carried  on  through  the  medium  of  things.  That  is 
to  say,  a  man  might  not  so  much  as  jostle  another  while 
drinking  a  cup  of  water  lest  he  should  spill  it,  but  he  might 
acquire  the  spring  of  water  on  which  the  community  solely 
depended  and  make  the  people  pay  a  dollar  a  drop  for 
water  or  go  without.  Or  if  he  filled  up  the  spring  so  as  to 
deprive  the  population  of  water  on  any  terms,  he  was  held 
to  be  acting  within  his  right.  He  might  not  by  force  take 
away  a  bone  from  a  beggar's  dog,  but  he  might  corner 
the  grain  supply  of  a  nation  and  reduce  millions  to  star- 
vation. 

"If  you  touch  a  man's  living  you  touch  him,  would 
seem  to  be  about  as  plain  a  truth  as  could  be  put  in  words ; 


108  EQUALITY. 

but  our  ancestors  had  not  the  least  difficulty  in  getting- 
around  it.  'Of  course,'  they  said,  'you  must  not  touch  the 
man ;  to  lay  a  finger  on  him  would  be  an  assault  i^unishable 
by  law.  But  his  living  is  quite  a  different  thing.  That  de- 
pends on  bread,  meat,  clothing,  land,  houses,  and  other  ma- 
terial things,  which  you  have  an  unlimited  right  to  appro- 
priate and  dispose  of  as  you  please  without  the  slightest 
regard  to  whether  anything  is  left  for  the  rest  of  the 
world.' 

"I  think  I  scarcely  need  dwell  on  the  entire  lack  of 
any  moral  justification  for  the  different  rule  which  our 
ancestors  followed  in  determining  what  use  you  might 
rightly  make  of  your  superior  powers  in  dealing  with  your 
neighbor  directly  by  physical  force  and  indirectly  by  eco- 
nomic duress.  No  one  can  have  any  more  or  other  right  to 
take  away  another's  living  by  superior  economic  skill  or 
financial  cunning  than  if  he  used  a  club,  simply  because 
no  one  has  any  right  to  take  advantage  of  any  one  else 
or  to  deal  v^dtli  him  otherwise  than  justly  by  any  means 
whatever.  The  end  itself  being  immoral,  the  means  em- 
ployed could  not  possibly  make  any  difference.  Moralists 
at  a  pinch  used  to  argue  that  a  good  end  might  justify  bad 
means,  but  none,  I  think,  went  so  far  as  to  claim  that  good 
means  justified  a  bad  end ;  yet  this  was  precisely  what  the 
defenders  of  the  old  property  system  did  in  fact  claim 
when  they  argued  that  it  was  right  for  a  man  to  take  away 
the  living  of  others  and  make  them  his  servants,  if  only  his 
triumph  resulted  from  superior  talent  or  more  diligent  devo- 
tion to  the  acquisition  of  material  things. 

"But  indeed  the  theory  that  the  monopoly  of  wealth 
could  be  justified  by  superior  economic  ability,  even  if  mor- 
ally sound,  would  not  at  all  have  fitted  the  old  property 
system,  for  of  all  conceivable  plans  for  distributing  proi^erty, 
none  could  have  more  absolutely  defied  every  notion  of 
desert  based  on  economic  effort.  None  could  have  been 
more  utterly  wrong  if  it  were  true  that  wealth  ought  to  be 
distributed  according  to  the  ability  and  industry  displayed 
by  individuals. 

"  All  this  talk  started  with  the  discussion  of  Julian's  for- 
tune.    Now  tell  us,  Julian,   was  your  million  dollars  the 


AN  EXCUSE  THAT  CONDEMNED.  109 

result  of  your  economic  ability,  tlie  fruit  of  your  indus- 
try ? " 

"  Of  course  not,"  I  replied.  "  Every  cent  of  it  was  in- 
herited. As  I  have  often  told  you,  I  never  lifted  a  finger  in 
a  useful  way  in  my  life." 

"  And  were  you  the  only  person  whose  property  came  to 
him  by  descent  without  effort  of  his  own  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,  title  by  descent  was  the  basis  and 
backbone  of  the  whole  property  system.  All  land,  except 
in  the  newest  countries,  together  with  the  bulk  of  the  more 
stable  kinds  of  property,  was  held  by  that  title." 

"  Precisely  so.  We  hear  what  Julian  says.  While  the 
moralists  and  the  clergy  solemnly  justified  the  inequalities  of 
wealth  and  reproved  the  discontent  of  the  poor  on  the  ground 
that  those  inequalities  were  justified  by  natural  differences 
in  ability  and  diligence,  they  knew  all  the  time,  and  every- 
body knew  who  listened  to  them,  that  the  foundation  prin- 
ciple of  the  whole  property  system  was  not  ability,  effort,  or 
desert  of  any  kind  whatever,  but  merely  the  accident  of 
birth,  than  which  no  possible  claim  could  more  completely 
mock  at  ethics." 

"  But,  Julian,"  exclaimed  Edith,  "  you  must  surely  have 
had  some  way  of  excusing  yourself  to  your  conscience  for 
retaining  in  the  i^resence  of  a  needy  world  such  an  excess 
of  good  things  as  you  had  I  " 

"I  am  afraid,"  I  said,  "that  you  can  not  easily  imagine 
how  callous  was  the  cuticle  of  the  nineteenth-century  con- 
science. There  may  have  been  some  of  my  class  on  the  in- 
tellectual plane  of  little  Jack  Horner  in  Mother  Goose,  who 
concluded  he  must  be  a  good  boy  because  he  pulled  out  a 
plum,  but  I  did  not  at  least  belong  to  that  grade.  I  never 
gave  much  thought  to  the  subject  of  my  right  to  an  abun- 
dance which  I  had  done  nothing  to  earn  in  the  midst  of  a 
starving  world  of  toilers,  but  occasionally,  when  I  did  think 
of  it,  I  felt  like  craving  pardon  of  the  beggar  who  asked 
alms  for  being  in  a  position  to  give  to  him." 

"  It  is  impossible  to  get  up  any  sort  of  a  quarrel  with 
Julian,"  said  the  doctor ;  "  but  there  were  others  of  his  class 
less  rational.  Cornered  as  to  their  moral  claim  to  their  pos- 
sessions, they  fell  back  on  that  of  their  ancestors.     They 


110  EQUALITY. 

argued  that  these  ancestors,  assuming  them  to  have  had  a 
right  by  merit  to  their  possessions,  had  as  an  incident  of  that 
merit  the  right  to  give  them  to  others.  Here,  of  course,  they 
absolutely  confused  the  ideas  of  legal  and  moral  right.  The 
law  might  indeed  give  a  person  power  to  transfer  a  legal 
title  to  property  in  any  way  that  suited  the  lawmakers,  but 
the  meritorious  right  to  the  property,  resting  as  it  "did  on 
personal  desert,  could  not  in  the  nature 'of  moral  things  be 
transferred  or  ascribed  to  any  one  else.  The  cleverest  lawyer 
would  never  have  pretended  that  he  could  draw  up  a  docu- 
ment that  would  carry  over  the  smallest  tittle  of  merit 
from  one  person  to  another,  however  close  the  tie  of 
blood. 

"In  ancient  times  it  was  customary  to  hold  children  re- 
sponsible for  the  debts  of  their  fathers  and  sell  them  into 
slavery  to  make  satisfaction.  The  people  of  Julian's  day 
found  it  unjust  thus  to  inflict  upon  innocent  offspring  the 
penalty  of  their  ancestors'  faults.  But  if  these  children  did 
not  deserve  the  consequences  of  their  ancestors'  sloth,  no 
more  had  they  any  title  to  the  product  of  their  ancestors' 
industry.  The  barbarians  who  insisted  on  both  sorts  of  in- 
heritance were  more  logical  than  Julian's  contemporaries, 
who,  rejecting  one  sort  of  inheritance,  retained  the  other. 
Will  it  be  said  that  at  least  the  later  theory  of  inheritance 
was  more  humane,  although  one-sided  ?  Upon  that  point 
you  should  have  been  able  to  get  the  opinion  of  the  disin- 
herited masses  who,  by  reason  of  the  monopolizing  of  the 
earth  and  its  resources  from  generation  to  generation  by  the 
possessors  of  inherited  property,  were  left  no  place  to  stand 
on  and  no  way  to  live  except  by  permission  of  the  inheriting 
class." 

'•  Doctor,"  I  said,  "  I  have  nothing  to  offer  against  all  that. 
We  who  inherited  our  wealth  had  no  moral  title  to  it,  and 
that  we  knew  as  well  as  everybody  else  did,  although  it  was 
not  considered  polite  to  refer  to  the  fact  in  our  presence. 
But  if  I  am  going  to  stand  up  here  in  the  pillory  as  a  repre- 
sentative of  the  inheriting  class,  there  are  otliers  who  ought 
to  stand  beside  me.  We  were  not  the  only  ones  who  had 
no  right  to  our  money.  Are  you  not  going  to  say  anything 
about  the  njoney  makers,  the  rascals  who  raked  together 


AN  EXCUSE  THAT  CONDEMNED.  m 

great  fortunes  in  a  few  years  by  wholesale  fraud  and  extor- 
tion ? " 

"  Pardon  me,  I  was  just  coming'  to  them,"  said  the  doc- 
tor. "  You  ladies  must  remember,"  he  continued,  "  that  the 
rich,  who  in  Julian's  day  possessed  nearly  everything  of 
value  in  every  country,  leaving  the  masses  mere  scraps  and 
crumbs,  were  of  two  sorts :  those  who  had  inherited  their 
wealth,  and  those  who,  as  the  saying  was,  had  made  it.  We 
have  seen  how  far  the  inheriting  class  were  justified  in 
their  holdings  by  the  principle  which  the  nineteenth  century 
asserted  to  be  the  excuse  for  wealth — namely,  that  individ- 
uals were  entitled  to  the  fruit  of  their  labors.  Let  us  next 
inquire  how  far  the  same  principle  justified  the  possessions 
of  these  others  whom  Julian  refers  to,  who  claimed  that 
they  had  made  their  money  themselves,  and  showed  in 
proof  lives  absolutely  devoted  from  childhood  to  age  with- 
out rest  or  respite  to  the  piling  up  of  gains.  Now,  of 
course,  labor  in  itself,  however  arduous,  does  not  imply 
moral  desert.  It  may  be  a  criminal  activity.  Let  us  see  if 
these  men  who  claimed  that  they  made  their  money  had 
any  better  title  to  it  than  Julian's  class  by  the  rule  put  for- 
ward as  the  excuse  for  unequal  wealth,  that  every  one  has  a 
right  to  the  product  of  his  labor.  The  most  complete  state- 
ment of  the  principle  of  the  right  of  property,  as  based  on 
economic  effort,  which  has  come  down  to  us,  is  this  maxim  : 
'Every  man  is  entitled  to  his  own  product,  his  whole  prod- 
uct, and  nothing  but  his  product.'  Now,  this  maxim  had 
a  double  edge,  a  negative  as  well  as  a  positive,  and  the  nega- 
tive edge  is  very  sharp.  If  everybody  was  entitled  to  his 
own  product,  nobody  else  was  entitled  to  any  part  of  it,  and 
if  any  one's  accumulation  was  found  to  contain  any  prod- 
uct not  strictly  his  own,  he  stood  condemned  as  a  thief 
by  the  law  he  had  invoked.  If  in  the  great  fortunes  of  the 
stockjobbers,  the  railroad  kings,  the  bankers,  the  great 
landlords,  and  the  other  moneyed  lords  who  boasted  that 
they  had  begun  life  with  a  shilling — if  in  these  great  for- 
tunes of  mushroom  rapidity  of  growth  there  was  anything 
that  was  properly  the  product  of  the  efforts  of  any  one  but 
the  owner,  it  was  not  his,  and  his  possession  of  it  condemned 
him  as  a  thief.     If  he  would  be  justified,  he  must  not  be 


112  EQUALITY. 

more  careful  to  obtain  all  that  was  his  own  product  than  to 
avoid  taking-  anything  that  was  not  his  product.  If  he  in- 
sisted upon  the  pound  of  flesh  awarded  him  by  the  letter  of 
the  law,  he  must  stick  to  the  letter,  observing  the  warning 
of  Portia  to  Shylock  : 

Nor  cut  thou  less  nor  more 
But  just  a  pound  of  flesh  ;  if  thou  tak'st  more 
Or  less  than  a  just  pound,  be  it  so  much 
As  makes  light  or  heavy  in  the  substance, 
Or  the  division  of  the  twentieth  part 
Of  one  poor  scruple  ;  nay,  if  the  scale  do  turn 
But  in  the  estimation  of  a  hair, 
Thou  diest,  and  thy  goods  are  confiscate. 

How  many  of  tlie  great  fortunes  heaped  up  by  the  self- 
made  men  of  your  day,  Julian,  would  have  stood  that 
test  ?  " 

"  It  is  safe  to  say,"  I  replied,  "  that  there  was  not  one  of 
the  lot  whose  lawyer  would  not  have  advised  him  to  do  as 
Shylock  did,  and  resign  his  claim  rather  than  try  to  push  it 
at  the  risk  of  the  penalty.  Why,  dear  me,  there  never 
would  have  been  any  possibility  of  making  a  great  fortune 
in  a  lifetime  if  the  maker  had  confined  himself  to  his  own 
product.  The  whole  acknowledged  art  of  wealth-making 
on  a  large  scale  consisted  in  devices  for  getting  possession 
of  other  people's  product  without  too  open  breach  of  the  law. 
It  was  a  current  and  a  true  saying  of  the  times  that  nobody 
could  honestly  acquire  a  million  dollars.  Everybody  knew 
that  it  was  only  by  extortion,  speculation,  stock  gambling, 
or  some  other  form  of  plunder  under  pretext  of  law  that 
such  a  feat  could  be  accomplished.  You  yourselves  can  not 
condemn  the  human  cormorants  who  piled  up  these  heaps 
of  ill-gotten  gains  more  bitterly  than  did  the  public  opinion 
of  their  own  time.  The  execration  and  contempt  of  the 
community  followed  the  great  money-getters  to  their  graves, 
and  with  the  best  of  reason.  I  have  had  nothing  to  say  in 
defense  of  my  own  class,  who  inherited  our  wealth,  but 
actually  the  people  seemed  to  have  more  respect  for  us  than 
for  these  others  who  claimed  to  have  made  their  money. 
For  if  we  inheritors  had  confessedlv  no  moral  right  to  the 


AN  EXCUSE  THAT  CONDEMNED.  113 

wealth  we  had  done  nothing  to  produce  or  acquire,  yet  w^e 
had  committed  no  positive  wrong  to  obtain  it." 

"  You  see,"  said  the  doctor,  ''  what  a  pity  it  would  have 
been  if  we  had  forgotten  to  compare  the  excuse  offered  by 
the  nineteenth  century  for  the  unequal  distribution  of 
wealth  with  the  actual  facts  of  that  distribution.  Ethical 
standards  advance  from  age  to  age,  and  it  is  not  always  fair 
to  judge  the  systems  of  one  age  by  the  moral  standards  of  a 
later  one.  But  we  have  seen  that  the  property  system  of  the 
nineteenth  century  would  have  gained  nothing  by  way  of  a 
milder  verdict  by  appealing  from  the  moral  standards  of  the 
twentieth  to  those  of  the  nineteenth  century.  It  w^as  not 
necessary,  in  order  to  justify  its  condemnation,  to  invoke 
the  modern  ethics  of  w^ealth  which  deduce  the  rights  of 
property  from  the  rights  of  man.  It  was  only  necessary  to 
apply  to  the  actual  realities  of  the  system  the  ethical  plea 
put  forth  in  its  defense — namely,  that  everybody  was  en- 
titled to  the  fruit  of  his  owm  labor,  and  was  not  entitled  to 
the  fruit  of  anybody's  else — to  leave  not  one  stone  upon 
another  of  the  w^hole  fabric." 

''But  was  there,  then,  absolutely  no  class  under  your 
system,"  said  Edith's  mother,  "which  even  by  the  standards 
of  your  time  could  claim  an  ethical  as  well  as  a  legal  title 
to  their  possessions  ? " 

'*  Oh,  yes,"  I  replied,  "we  have  been  speaking  of  the  rich. 
You  may  set  it  down  as  a  rule  that  the  rich,  the  possessors 
of  great  wealth,  had  no  moral  right  to  it  as  based  upon 
desert,  for  either  their  fortunes  belonged  to  the  class  of 
inherited  wealth,  or  else,  when  accumulated  in  a  lifetime, 
necessarily  represented  chiefly  the  product  of  others,  more 
or  less  forcibly  or  fraudulently  obtained.  There  w^ere,  how- 
ever, a  great  number  of  modest  competencies,  w^hich  were 
recognized  by  public  opinion  as  being  no  more  than  a  fair 
measure  of  the  service  rendered  by  their  possessors  to  the 
community.  Below  these  there  was  the  vast  mass  of  well- 
nigh  wholly  penniless  toilers,  the  real  people.  Here  there 
was  indeed  abundance  of  ethical  title  to  property,  for  these 
were  the  producers  of  all ;  but  beyond  the  shabby  clothing 
they  wore,  they  had  little  or  no  property." 

"  It  would  seem,"  said  Edith,  "  that,  speaking  generally. 


114  EQUALITY. 

the  class  which  chiefly  had  the  projDerty  had  little  or  no 
right  to  it,  even  according  to  the  ideas  of  your  day,  whil^ 
the  masses  which  had  the  right  had  little  or  no  property." 

"  Substantially  that  was  the  case,"  I  replied.  "  That  is  to 
say,  if  you  took  the  aggregate  of  proj^erty  held  by  the 
merely  legal  title  of  inheritance,  and  added  to  it  all  that 
had  been  obtained  by  means  which  public  opinion  held  to 
be  speculative,  extortionate,  fraudulent,  or  representing  re- 
sults in  excess  of  services  rendered,  there  would  be  little 
property  left,  and  certainly  none  at  all  in  considerable 
amounts." 

'•From  the  preaching  of  the  clergy  in  Julian's  time," 
said  the  doctor,  "  you  would  have  thought  the  corner  stone 
of  Christianity  was  the  right  of  property,  and  the  supreme 
crime  was  the  wrongful  appropriation  of  property.  But  if 
stealing  meant  only  taking  that  from  another  to  which  he 
had  a  sound  ethical  title,  it  must  have  been  one  of  the  most 
difficult  of  all  crimes  to  commit  for  lack  of  the  requisite 
material.  When  one  took  away  the  possessions  of  the  poor 
it  was  reasonably  certain  that  he  was  stealing,  but  then 
they  had  nothing  to  take  away." 

"  The  thing  that  seems  to  me  the  most  utterly  incredible 
about  all  this  terrible  story,"  said  Edith,  ''  is  that  a  system 
which  was  such  a  disastrous  failure  in  its  effects  on  the  gen- 
eral welfare,  which,  by  disinheriting  the  great  mass  of  the 
people,  had  made  them  its  bitter  foes,  and  which  finally 
even  people  like  Julian,  who  were  its  beneficiaries,  did  not 
attempt  to  defend  as  having  any  ground  of  fairness,  could 
have  maintained  itself  a  day." 

'•  No  wonder  it  seems  incomprehensible  to  you,  as  now, 
indeed,  it  seems  to  me  as  I  look  back,"  I  replied.  "  But  you 
can  not  possibly  imagine,  as  I  myself  am  fast  losing  the 
power  to  do,  in  my  new  environment,  how  benumbing  to 
the  mind  was  the  prestige  belonging  to  the  immemorial  an- 
tiquity of  the  property  system  as  we  knew  it  and  of  the  rule 
of  the  rich  based  on  it.  No  other  institution,  no  other  fabric 
of  power  ever  known  to  man,  could  be  compared  with  it  as 
to  duration.  No  different  economic  order  could  really  be 
said  ever  to  have  been  known.  There  had  been  changes 
and  fashions  in  all  other  human  institutions,  but  no  radical 


AN  EXCUSE  THAT  CONDEMNED.  II5 

change  in  the  system  of  property.  The  procession  of  polit- 
ical, social,  and  religious  systems,  the  royal,  imperial, 
priestly,  democratic  e^jochs,  and  all  other  great  phases  of 
human  affairs,  had  been  as  passing  cloud  shadows,  mere 
fashions  of  a  day,  compared  with  the  hoary  antiquity  of  the 
rule  of  the  rich.  Consider  how  profound  and  how  widely 
ramified  a  root  in  human  prejudices  such  a  system  must 
have  had,  how  overwhelming  the  presumption  must  have 
been  with  the  mass  of  minds  against  the  possibility  of  mak- 
ing an  end  of  an  order  that  had  never  been  knoAvn  to  have 
a  beginning !  What  need  for  excuses  or  defenders  had  a 
system  so  deeply  based  in  usage  and  antiquity  as  this  ?  It  is~ 
not  too  much  to  say  that  to  the  mass  of  mankind  in  my  day 
the  division  of  the  race  into  rich  and  poor,  and  the  subjec- 
tion of  the  latter  to  the  former,  seemed  almost  as  much  a  law 
of  Nature  as  the  succession  of  the  seasons — something  that 
might  not  be  agreeable,  but  was  certainly  unchangeable. 
And  just  here,  I  can  well  understand,  must  have  come  the 
hardest  as  well  as,  necessarily,  the  first  task  of  the  revolu- 
tionary leaders — that  is,  of  overcoming  the  enormous  dead 
weight  of  immemorial  inherited  prejudice  against  the  pos- 
sibilty  of  getting  rid  of  abuses  which  had  lasted  so  long,  and 
opening  people's  eyes  to  the  fact  that  the  system  of  wealth 
distribution  was  merely  a  himian  institution  like  others, 
and  that  if  there  is  any  truth  in  human  progress,  the 
longer  an  institution  had  endured  unchanged,  the  more 
completely  it  w^as  likely  to  have  become  out  of  joint  with 
the  world's  progress,  and  the  more  radical  the  change  must 
be  which  should  bring  it  into  correspondence  with  other 
lines  of  social  evolution." 

"  That  is  quite  the  modern  view  of  the  subject,"  said 
the  doctor.  "  I  shall  be  understood  in  talking  with  a  rep- 
resentative of  the  century  which  invented  poker  if  I  say 
that  w^hen  the  revolutionists  attacked  the  fundamental 
justice  of  the  old  property  system,  its  defenders  were  able 
on  account  of  its  antiquity  to  meet  them  with  a  tremen- 
dous bluff — one  which  it  is  no  wonder  should  have  been 
for  a  time  almost  paralyzing.  But  behind  the  bluff  there 
was  absolutely  nothing.  The  moment  public  opinion 
could  be  nerved  up  to  the  point  of  calling  it,  the  game 


116  .  EQUALITY. 

was  up.  The  principle  of  inheritance,  the  backbone  of 
the  whole  property  system,  at  the  first  challenge  of  seri- 
ous criticism  abandoned  all  ethical  defense  and  shriveled 
into  a  mere  convention  established  by  law,  and  as  rightfully 
to  be  disestablished  by  it  in  the  name  of  anything  fairer. 
As  for  /the  buccaneers,  the  great  money-getters,  when  the 
light  was  once  turned  on  their  methods,  the  question  was 
not  so  much  of  saving  their  booty  as  their  bacon. 

"There  is  historically  a  marked  difference,"  the  doctor 
went  on,  "  between  the  decline  and  fall  of  the  systems  of 
royal  and  priestly  power  and  the  passing  of  the  rule  of  the 
rich.  The  former  systems  were  rooted  deeply  in  sentiment 
and  romance,  and  for  ages  after  their  overthrow  retained  a 
strong  hold  on  the  hearts  and  imaginations  of  men.  Our 
generous  race  has  remembered  without  rancor  all  the  op- 
pressions it  has  endured  save  only  the  rule  of  the  rich.  The 
dominion  of  the  money  power  had  always  been  devoid  of 
moral  basis  or  dignity,  and  from  the  moment  its  material 
supports  were  destroyed,  it  not  only  perished,  but  seemed  to 
sink  away  at  once  into  a  state  of  putrescence  that  made  the 
world  hurry  to  bury  it  forever  out  of  sight  and  memory." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  REVOLUTION  SAVES  PRIVATE   PROPERTY  FROM 
MONOPOLY. 

"  Really,"  said  her  mother,  "  Edith  touched  the  match  to 
quite  a  large  discussion  when  she  suggested  that  you  should 
open  the  safe  for  us." 

To  which  I  added  that  I  had  learned  more  that  morn- 
ing about  the  moral  basis  of  economic  equality  and  the 
grounds  for  the  abolition  of  private  property  than  in  my  en- 
tire previous  experience  as  a  citizen  of  the  twentieth  cen- 
tury. 

"  The  abolition  of  private  property  !  "exclaimed  the  doc- 
tor.    "  What  is  that  vou  sav  ? " 


THE  REVOLUTION  SAVES  PRIVATE  PROPERTY.  117 

"  Of  course,"  I  said,  "  I  am  quite  ready  to  admit  that 
you  have  something  very  nmch  hetter  in  its  i)lace,  hut  pri- 
vate property  you  have  certainly  aholished— have  you  not  ? 
Is  not  that  what  we  have  been  talking  about  ? " 

The  doctor  turned  as  if  for  sympathy  to  the  ladies. 
"  And  this  young  man,"  he  said,  "  who  thinks  that  we  have 
abolished  private  property  has  at  this  moment  in  his  pocket 
a  card  of  credit  representing  a  private  annual  income,  for 
strictly  personal  use,  of  four  thousand  dollars,  based  upon  a 
share  of  stock  in  the  wealthiest  and  soundest  corporation  in 
the  world,  the  value  of  his  share,  calculating  the  income 
on  a  four-per-cent  basis,  coming  to  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars." 

I-  felt  a  little  silly  at  being  convicted  so  palpably  of  mak- 
ing a  thoughtless  observation,  but  the  doctor  hastened  to  say 
that  he  understood  perfectly  what  had  been  in  my  mind.  I 
had,  no  doubt,  heard  it  a  hundred  times  asserted  by  the  wise 
men  of  my  day  that  the  equalization  of  human  conditions 
as  to  wealth  would  necessitate  destroying  the  institution  of 
private  property,  and,  without  having  given  special  thought 
to  the  subject,  had  naturally  assumed  that  the  equalization 
of  wealth  having  been  effected,  private  property  must  have 
been  abolished,  according  to  the  prediction. 

"  Thanks,"  I  said  ;  "  that  is  it  exactly." 

"The  Revolution,"  said  the  doctor,  "abolished  private 
capitalism — that  is  to  say,  it  put  an  end  to  the  direction  of 
the  industries  and  commerce  of  the  people  by  irresponsible 
persons  for  their  own  benefit  and  transferred  that  function 
to  the  people  collectively  to  be  carried  on  by  responsible 
agents  for  the  common  benefit.  The  change  created  an  en- 
tirely new  system  of  property  holding,  but  did  not  either 
directly  or  indirectly  involve  any  denial  of  the  right  of  pri- 
vate property.  Quite  on  the  contrary,  the  change  in  system 
placed  the  private  and  personal  property  rights  of  every  citi- 
zen upon  a  basis  iiicomparably  more  solid  and  secure  and 
extensive  than  they  ever  before  had  or  could  have  had 
while  private  capitalism  lasted.  Let  us  analyze  the  effects 
of  the  change  of  systems  and  see  if  it  was  not  so. 

"  Suppose  you  and  a  number  of  other  men  of  your  time, 
all  having  separate  claims  in  a  mining  region,  formed  a  cor- 


118  EQUALITY. 

poration  to  carry  on  as  one  mine  your  consolidated  proper- 
ties, would  you  have  any  less  private  property  than  you  had 
when  you  owned  your  claims  separately  ?  You  would  have 
changed  the  mode  and  tenure  of  your  property,  but  if  the 
arrangement  were  a  wise  one  that  would  be  wholly  to  your 
advantage,  would  it  not  ?  " 

''  No  doubt." 

"  Of  course,  you  could  no  longer  exercise  the  personal 
and  complete  control  over  the  consolidated  mine  which  you 
exercised  over  your  separate  claim.  You  would  have,  with 
your  fellow-corporators,  to  intrust  the  management  of  the 
combined  property  to  a  board  of  directors  chosen  by  your- 
selves, but  you  would  not  think  that  meant  a  sacrifice  of 
your  private  property,  would  you  ? " 

"  Certainly  not.  That  was  the  form  under  which  a  very 
large  part,  if  not  the  largest  part,  of  private  property  in  my 
day  was  invested  and  controlled." 

"  It  appears,  then,"  said  the  doctor,  "  that  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  the  full  possession  and  enjoyment  of  private  prop- 
erty that  it  should  be  in  a  separate  parcel  or  that  the  o^NTier 
should  exercise  a  direct  and  personal  control  over  it.  Now, 
let  us  further  suppose  that  instead  of  intrusting  the  man- 
agement of  your  consolidated  property  to  private  directors 
more  or  less  rascally,  who  would  be  constantly  trj^ng  to 
cheat  the  stockholders,  the  nation  undertook  to  manage 
the  business  for  you  by  agents  chosen  by  and  responsi- 
ble to  you ;  would  that  be  an  attack  on  your  property 
interests  ? " 

"  On  the  contrary,  it  would  gi^eatly  enhance  the  value  of 
the  property.  It  would  be  as  if  a  government  guarantee 
were  obtained  for  private  bonds." 

"  Well,  that  is  what  the  people  in  the  Revolution  did 
with  private  property.  They  simply  consolidated  the  prop- 
erty in  the  country  previously  held  in  separate  parcels  and 
put  the  management  of  the  business  into  the  hands  bf  a  na- 
tional agency  charged  with  paying  over  the  dividends  to 
the  stockholders  for  their  individual  use.  So  far,  surely,  it 
must  be  admitted  the  Revolution  did  not  involve  any  aboli- 
tion of  private  property." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  I,  "  except  in  one  particular.     It  is  or 


THE  EEVOLUTION  SAVES  PRIVATE  PROPERTY.  119 

used  to  be  a  usual  incident  to  the  ownership  of  property 
that  it  may  be  disposed  of  at  will  by  the  owner.  The  owner 
of  stock  in  a  mine  or  mill  could  not  indeed  sell  a  piece  of 
the  mine  or  mill,  but  he  could  sell  his  stock  in  it ;  but  the 
citizen  now  can  not  dispose  of  his  share  in  the  national  con- 
cern.    He  can  only  dispose  of  the  dividend." 

"Certainly,"  replied  the  doctor;  "  but  while  the  power 
of  alienating  the  principal  of  one's  property  was  a  usual  in- 
cident of  ownership  in  your  time,  it  was  very  far  from  being 
a  necessary  incident  or  one  which  was  beneficial  to  the 
owner,  for  the  right  of  disposing  of  property  involved  the 
risk  of  being  dispossessed  of  it  by  others.  I  think  there 
were  few  property  owners  in  your  day  who  would  not  very 
gladly  have' relinquished  the  right  to  alienate  their  property 
if  they  could  have  had  it  guaranteed  indefeasibly  to  them 
and  their  children.  So  to  tie  up  property  by  trusts  that  the 
beneficiary  could  not  touch  the  principal  was  the  study  of 
rich  people  who  desired  best  to  protect  their  heirs.  Take 
the  case  of  entailed  estates  as  another  illustration  of  this 
idea.  Under  that  mode  of  holding  property  the  possessor 
could  not  sell  it,  yet  it  was  considered  the  most  desirable 
sort  of  property  on  account  of  that  very  fact.  The  fact  you 
refer  to — that  the  citizen  can  not  alienate  his  share  in  the  na- 
tional corporation  which  forms  the  basis  of  his  income — 
tends  in  the  same  way  to  make  it  a  more  and  not  a  less 
valuable  sort  of  property.  Certainly  its  quality  as  a 
strictly  personal  and  private  sort  of  property  is  intensified 
by  the  very  indefeasibleness  with  which  it  is  attached  to 
the  individual.  It  might  be  said  that  the  reorganization  of 
the  property  system  which  we  are  speaking  of  amounted  to 
making  the  United  States  an  entailed  estate  for  the  equal 
benefit  of  the  citizens  thereof  and  their  descendants  for- 
ever." 

"  You  have  not  yet  mentioned,"  I  said,  "  the  most  drastic 
measure  of  all  by  which  the  Revolution  affected  private 
property,  namely,  the  absolute  equalizing  of  the  amount 
of  property  to  be  held  by  each.  Here  was  not  perhaps 
any  denial  of  the  principle  itself  of  private  property,  but 
it  was  certainly  a  prodigious  interference  with  property 
holders." 


120  EQUALITY. 

"  The  distinction  is  well  made.  It  is  of  vital  importance 
to  a  correct  apprehension  of  this  subject.  History  has  been 
full  of  just  such  wholesale  readjustments  of  property  inter- 
ests by  spoliation,  conquest,  or  confiscation.  They  have 
been  more  or  less  justifiable,  but  when  least  so  they  were 
never  thought  to  involve  any  denial  of  the  idea  of  private 
property  in  itself,  for  they  went  right  on  to  reassert  it  under 
a  different  form.  Less  than  any  previous  readjustment  of 
property  relations  could  the  general  equalizing  of  property 
in  the  Revolution  be  called  a  denial  of  the  right  of  property. 
On  the  precise  contrary  it  was  an  assertion  and  vindication 
of  that  right  on  a  scale  never  before  dreamed  of.  Before 
the  Revolution  very  few^  of  the  people  had  any  property  at 
all  and  no  economic  provision  save  from  day  to  day.  By 
the  new  system  all  were  assured  of  a  large,  equal,  and  fixed 
share  in  the  total  national  principal  and  income.  Before 
the  Revolution  even  those  w^ho  had  secured  a  property  were 
likely  to  have  it  taken  from  them  or  to  slip  from  them  by  a 
thousand  accidents.  Even  the  millionaire  had  no  assurance 
that  his  grandson  might  not  become  a  homeless  vagabond 
or  his  granddaughter  be  forced  to  a  life  of  shame.  Under 
the  new  system  the  title  of  every  citizen  to  his  individual 
fortune  became  indefeasible,  and  he  could  lose  it  only  when 
the  nation  became  bankrupt.  The  Revolution,  that  is  to 
say,  instead  of  denying  or  abolishing  the  institution  of  pri- 
vate property,  affirmed  it  in  an  incomparably  more  posi- 
tive, beneficial,  permanent,  and  general  form  than  had  ever 
been  known  before. 

Of  course,  Julian,  it  was  in  the  way  of  human  nature 
quite  a  matter  of  course  that  your  contemporaries  should 
have  cried  out  against  the  idea  of  a  universal  right  of 
property  as  an  attack  on  the  principle  of  property.  There 
"was  never  a  prophet  or  reformer  who  raised  his  voice  for 
a  purer,  more  spiritual,  and  perfect  idea  of  religion  whom 
his  contemporaries  did  not  accuse  of  seeking  to  abolish  re- 
ligion ;  nor  ever  in  political  affaire  did  any  party  proclaim 
a  juster,  larger,  wiser  ideal  of  government  without  being 
accused  of  seeking  to  abolish  government.  So  it  was  quite 
according  to  precedent  that  those  who  taught  the  right  of 
all  to  property  should   be  accused  of  attacking  the  right 


AN  ECHO  OF  THE   PAST.  121 

of  property.  But  who,  tliinl?:  you,  were  the  true  friends  and 
champions  of  private  property  ?  those  who  advocated  a 
system  under  wliich  one  man  if  clever  enough  could 
monopolize  the  earth — and  a  very  small  number  were  fast 
monopolizing  it — turning  the  rest  of  the  race  into  prole- 
tarians, or,  on  the  other  hand,  those  who  demanded  a  sys- 
tem by  which  all  should  become  property  holders  on  equal 
terms  ? " 

"It  strikes  me,"  I  said,  " that  as  soon  as  the  revolution- 
ary leaders  succeeded  in  opening  the  eyes  of  the  people  to 
this  view  of  the  matter,  my  old  friends  the  capitalists  must 
have  found  their  cry  about  '  the  sacred  right  of  j)roperty ' 
turned  into  a  most  dangerous  sort  of  boomerang." 

"So  they  did.  Nothing  could  have  better  served  the 
ends  of  the  Eevolution,  as  we  have  seen,  than  to  raise  the 
issue  of  the  right  of  prox)erty.  Nothing  was  so  desirable  as 
that  the  people  at  large  should  be  led  to  give  a  little  serious 
consideration  on  rational  and  moral  grounds  to  what  that 
right  was  as  compared  with  what  it  ought  to  be.  It  was 
very  soon,  then,  that  the  cry  of  '  the  sacred  right  of  prop- 
erty,' first  raised  by  the  rich  in  the  name  of  the  few,  was 
re-echoed  with  overwhelming  effect  by  the  disinherited 
millions  in  the  name  of  all.'" 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

AN   ECHO   OF   THE   PAST. 

"  Ah  ! "  exclaimed  Edith,  who  with  her  mother  had 
been  rummaging  the  drawers  of  the  safe  as  the  doctor 
and  I  talked,  "here  are  some  letters,  if  I  am  not  mis- 
taken. It  seems,  then,  you  used  safes  for  something  besides 
money." 

It  was,  in  fact,  as  I  noted  with  quite  indescribable  emo- 
tion, a  packet  of  letters  and  notes  from  Edith  Bartlett, 
written  on  various  occasions  during  our  relation  as  lovers, 
that  Edith,  her  great-granddaughter,  held  in  her  hand.  I 
took  them  from_  her,  and  opening  one,  found  it  to  be  a  note 


122  EQUALITY. 

dated  May  30, 1887,  the  very  day  on  which  I  parted  with  her 
forever.  In  it  she  asked  me  to  join  her  family  in  their 
Decoration-day  visit  to  the  grave  at  Mount  Auburn  where 
her  brother  lay,  who  had  fallen  in  the  civil  war. 

"I  do  not  expect,  Julian,"  she  had  written,  "that  you 
will  adopt  all  my  relations  as  your  own  because  you  marry 
me — that  would  be  too  much — but  my  hero  brother  I  want 
you  to  take  for  yours,  and  that  is  why  I  would  like  you  to 
go  with  us  to-day." 

The  gold  and  parchments,  once  so  priceless,  now  carelessly 
scattered  about  the  chamber,  had  lost  their  value,  but  these 
tokens  of  love  had  not  parted  with  their  potency  through 
lapse  of  time.  As  by  a  magic  power  they  called  up  in  a 
moment  a  mist  of  memories  which  shut  me  up  in  a  world  of 
my  own — a  world  in  which  the  present  had  no  part.  I  do 
not  know  for  how  long  I  sat  thus  tranced  and  oblivious  of 
the  silent,  sympathizing  group  around  me.  It  was  by  a 
deep  involuntary  sigh  from  my  own  lips  that  I  was  at  last 
roused  from  my  abstraction,  and  returned  from  the  dream 
world  of  the  past  to  a  consciousness  of  my  present  environ- 
ment and  its  conditions. 

"These  are  letters,"  I  said,  "from  the  other  Edith — Edith 
Bartlett,  your  great-grandmother.  Perhaps  you  would  be 
interested  in  looking  them  over.  I  don't  know  who  has  a 
nearer  or  better  claim  to  them  after  myself  than  you  and 
your  mother." 

Edith  took  the  letters  and  began  to  examine  them  with 
reverent  curiosity. 

"  They  will  be  very  interesting,"  said  her  mother,  "  but 
I  am  afraid,  Julian,  we  shall  have  to  ask  you  to  read  them 
for  us." 

My  countenance  no  doubt  expressed  the  surprise  I  felt 
at  this  confession  of  illiteracy  on  the  part  of  such  highly 
cultivated  persons. 

"Am  I  to  understand,"  I  finally  inquired,  "that  hand- 
writing, and  the  reading  of  it,  like  lock-making,  is  a  lost 
art?" 

"  I  am  afraid  it  is  about  so,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  although 
the  explanation  here  is  not,  as  in  the  other  case,  economic 
equality  so  much  as  the  progress  of  invention.     Our  chil- 


AN  ECHO  OF  THE  PAST.  123 

dren  are  still  taught  to  write  and  to  read  writing,  but 
they  have  so  little  practice  in  after-life  that  they  usually 
forget  their  acquirements  pretty  soon  after  leaving  school ; 
but'really  Edith  ought  still  to  be  able  to  make  out  a  nine- 
teenth-century letter.— My  dear,  I  am  a  little  ashamed  of 
you." 

''  Oh,  I  can  read  this,  papa,"  she  exclaimed,  looking  up, 
with  brows  still  corrugated,  from  a  page  she  had  been  study- 
ing. "  Don't  you  remember  I  studied  out  those  old  letters 
of  Julian's  to  Edith  Bartlett,  which  mother  had  ?— though 
that  was  years  ago,  and  I  have  grown  rusty  since.  But  I 
have  read  nearly  two  lines  of  this  already.  It  is  really  quite 
plain.  I  am  going  to  work  it  all  out  without  any  help  from 
anybody  except  mother." 

"  Dear  me,  dear  me  ! "  said  I,  "  don't  you  write  letters  any 
more  ? " 

"Well,  no,"  replied  the  doctor,  "practically  speaking, 
handwriting  has  gone  out  of  use.  For  correspondence, 
when  we  do  not  telephone,  we  send  phonographs,  and  use 
the  latter,  indeed,  for  all  purposes  for  which  you  employed 
handwriting.  It  has  been  so  now  so  long  that  it  scarcely 
occurs  to  us  that  people  ever  did  anything  else.  But  surely 
this  is  an  evolution  that  need  surprise  you  little :  you  had 
the  phonograph,  and  its  possibilities  were  patent  enough 
from  the  first.  For  our  important  records  we  still  largely 
use  types,  of  course,  but  the  printed  matter  is  transcribed 
from  phonographic  copy,  so  that  really,  except  in  emergen- 
cies, there  is  little  use  for  handwinting.  Curious,  isn't  it, 
when  one  comes  to  think  of  it,  that  the  riper  civilization  has 
grown,  the  more  perishable  its  records  have  become  ?  The 
Chaldeans  and  Egyptians  used  bricks,  and  the  Greeks  and 
Romans  made  more  or  less  use  of  stone  and  bronze,  for 
writing.  If  the  race  were  destroyed  to-day  and  the  earth 
should  be  visited,  say,  from  Mars,  five  hundred  years  later  or 
even  less,  our  books  would  have  perished,  and  the  Eoman 
Empire  be  accounted  the  latest  and  highest  stage  of  human 
civilization." 


124  EQUALITY. 

CHAPTEE  XIX. 

"  CAN  A   MAID    FORGET    HER  ORNAMENTS  ?  " 

Presently  Edith  and  her  mother  went  into  the  house 
to  study  out  the  letters,  and  the  doctor  being  so  delightfully 
absorbed  with  the  stocks  and  bonds  that  it  would  have  been 
unkind  not  to  leave  him  alone,  it  struck  me  that  the  occa- 
sion was  favorable  for  the  execution  of  a  private  project  for 
which  opportunity  had  hitherto  been  lacking. 

From  the  moment  of  receiving  my  credit  card  I  had 
contemplated  a  particular  purchase  which  I  desired  to 
make  on  the  first  opportunity.  This  was  a  betrothal  ring 
for  Edith.  Gifts  in  general,  it  was  evident,  had  lost  their 
value  in  this  age  when  everybody  had  everything  he 
wanted,  but  this  was  one  which,  for  sentiment's  sake,  I  was 
sure  would  still  seem  as  desirable  to  a  woman  as  ever. 

Taking  advantage,  therefore,  of  the  unusual  absorption 
of  my  hosts  in  special  interests,  I  made  my  way  to  the  great 
store  Edith  had  taken  me  to  on  a  former  occasion,  the  only 
one  I  had  thus  far  entered.  Not  seeing  the  class  of  goods 
which  I  desired  indicated  by  any  of  the  placards  over  the 
alcoves,  I  presently  asked  one  of  the  young  women  attend- 
ants to  direct  me  to  the  jewelry  department. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  said,  raising  her  eyebrows  a 
little,  "  what  did  I  understand  you  to  ask  for  ?  " 

"  The  jewelry  department,"  I  repeated.  "  I  want  to  look 
at  some  rings." 

"  Rings,"  she  repeated,  regarding  me  Avith  a  rather  blank 
expression.  "  May  I  ask  what  kind  of  rings,  for  what  sort 
of  use  ? " 

"Finger  rings,"  I  repeated,  feeling  that  the  young 
woman  could  not  be  so  intelligent  as  she  looked. 

At  the  word  she  glanced  at  my  left  hand,  on  one  of  the 
fingers  of  which  I  wore  a  seal  ring  after  a  fashion  of  my 
day.  Her  countenance  took  on  an  expression  at  once  of  in- 
telligence and  the  keenest  interest. 

"I  beg  your  pardon  a  thousand  times  !"  she  exclaimed. 
"I  ought  to  have  understood  before.  You  are  Julian 
West  ? " 


"CAN  A  MAID  FORGET  HER  ORNAMENTS?"    125 

I  was  begiuning:  to  be  a  little  nettled  with  so  much  mys- 
tery about  so  simple  a  matter. 

"  I  certainly  am  Julian  West,"  I  said  ;  "  but  pardon  me 
if  I  do  not  see  the  relevancy  of  that  fact  to  the  question  I 
asked  you." 

"  Oh,  you  must  really  excuse  me,"  she  said,  "  but  it  is 
most  relevant.  Nobody  in  America  but  just  yourself  would 
ask  for  finger  rings.  You  see  they  have  not  been  used  for  so 
long  a  period  that  we  have  quite  ceased  to  keep  them  in 
stock ;  but  if  you  would  like  one  made  to  order  you  have 
only  to  leave  a  description  of  w^hat  you  want  and  it  will  be 
at  once  manufactured." 

I  thanked  her,  but  concluded  that  I  would  not  prosecute 
the  undertaking  any  further  until  I  had  looked  over  the 
ground  a  little  more  thoroughlj". 

I  said  nothing  about  my  adventure  at  home,  not  caring 
to  be  laughed  at  more  than  was  necessary ;  but  when  after 
dinner  I  found  the  doctor  alone  in  his  favorite  outdoor 
study  on  the  housetop,  I  cautiously  sounded  him  on  the 
subject. 

Remarking,  as  if  quite  in  a  casual  way,  that  I  had  not 
noticed  so  much  as  a  finger  ring  worn  by  any  one,  I  asked 
him  whether  the  wearing  of  jewelry  had  been  disused,  and, 
if  so,  what  was  the  explanation  of  the  abandonment  of  the 
custom  ? 

The  doctor  said  that  it  certainly  was  a  fact  that  the  wear- 
ing of  jewelry  had  been  virtually  an  obsolete  custom  for  a 
couple  of  generations  if  not  more.  "  As  for  the  reasons  for 
the  fact,"  he  continued,  "  they  really  go  rather  deeply  into 
the  direct  and  indirect  consequences  of  our  present  economic 
system.  Speaking  broadly,  I  suppose  the  main  and  sufficient 
reason  why  gold  and  silver  and  x^recious  stones  have  ceased 
to  be  prized  as  ornaments  is  that  they  entirely  lost  their  com- 
mercial value  when  the  nation  organized  wealth  distribution 
on  the  basis  of  the  indefeasible  economic  equality  of  all  citi- 
zens. As  you  know,  a  ton  of  gold  or  a  bushel  of  diamonds 
would  not  secure  a  loaf  of  bread  at  the  public  stores,  nothing 
availing  there  except  or  in  addition  to  the  citizen's  credit, 
which  depends  solely  on  his  citizenship,  and  is  always  equal 
to  that  of  every  other  citizen.    Consequently  nothing  is  worth 


126  EQUALITY. 

anything  to  anybody  nowadays  save  for  the  use  or  pleasure 
he  can  personally  derive  from  it.  The  main  reason  why 
gems  and  the  precious  metals  w^ere  formerly  used  as  orna- 
ments seems  to  have  been  the  great  convertible  value  be- 
longing to  them,  which  made  them  symbols  of  wealth  and 
importance,  and  consequently  a  favorite  means  of  social 
ostentation.  The  fact  that  they  have  entirely  lost  this  qual- 
ity would  account,  I  think,  largely  for  their  disuse  as  orna- 
ments, even  if  ostentation  itself  had  not  been  deprived  of  its 
motive  by  the  law  of  equality." 

"Undoubtedly,"  I  said;  "yet  there  were  those  who 
thought  them  pretty  quite  apart  from  their  value." 

"Well,  possibly,"  replied  the  doctor.  "Yes,  I  suppose 
savage  races  honestly  thought  so,  but,  being  honest,  they 
did  not  distinguish  between  precious  stones  and  glass  beads 
so  long  as  both  were  equally  shiny.  As  to  the  pretension 
of  civilized  persons  to  admire  gems  or  gold  for  their  in- 
trinsic beauty  apart  from  their  value,  I  suspect  that  w^as  a 
more  or  less  unconscious  sham.  Suppose,  by  any  sudden 
abundance,  diamonds  of  the  first  water  had  gone  down  to 
the  value  of  bottle  glass,  how  much  longer  do  you  think 
they  would  have  been  worn  by  anybody  in  your  day  ? " 

I  was  constrained  to  admit  that  undoubtedly  they  would 
have  disappeared  from  view  promptly  and  permanently. 

"  I  imagine,"  said  the  doctor,  "that  good  taste,  which  we 
understand  even  in  your  day  rather  frowned  on  the  use  of 
such  ornaments,  came  to  the  aid  of  the  economic  influence 
in  promoting  their  disuse  when  once  the  new  order  of  things 
had  been  established.  The  loss  by  the  gems  and  precious 
metals  of  the  glamour  that  belonged  to  them  as  forms  of 
concentrated  wealth  left  the  taste  free  to  judge  of  the  real 
aesthetic  value  of  ornamental  effects  obtained  by  hanging 
bits  of  shining  stones  and  plates  and  chains  and  rings  of 
metal  about  the  face  and  neck  and  fingers,  and  the  view 
seems  to  have  been  soon  generally  acquiesced  in  that  such 
combinations  were  barbaric  and  not  really  beautiful  at  all." 

"  But  what  has  become  of  all  the  diamonds  and  rubies 
and  emeralds,  and  gold  and  silver  jewels  ? "  I  exclaimed. 

"  The  metals,  of  course — silver  and  gold — kept  their  uses, 
mechanical  and  artistic.    They  are  always  beautiful  in  their 


"CAN  A  MAID  FORGET   HER  ORNAMENTS?"    127 

proper  places,  and  are  as  much  used  for  decorative  purposes 
as  ever,  but  those  purposes  are  architectural,  not  personal,  as 
formerly.  Because  we  do  not  follow  the  ancient  practice  of 
using  paints  on  our  faces  and  bodies,  we  use  them  not  the 
less  in  what  w^e  consider  their  proper  places,  and  it  is  just  so 
with  gold  and  silver.  As  for  the  precious  stones,  some  of 
them  have  found  use  in  mechanical  applications,  and  there 
are,  of  course,  collections  of  them  in  museums  here  and 
there.  Probably  there  never  were  more  than  a  few  hundred 
bushels  of  precious  stones  in  existence,  and  it  is  easy  to  ac- 
count for  the  disappearance  and  speedy  loss  of  so  small  a 
quantity  of  such  minute  objects  after  they  had  ceased  to  be 
prized.'- 

"The  reasons  you  give  for  the  passing  of  jewelry,"  I 
said,  "certainly  account  for  the  fact,  and  yet  you  can 
scarcely  imagine  what  a  surprise  I  find  in  it.  The  degrada- 
tion of  the  diamond  to  the  rank  of  the  glass  bead,  save  for 
its  mechanical  uses,  expresses  and  typifies  as  no  other  one 
fact  to  me  the  completeness  of  the  revolution  which  at  the 
present  time  has  subordinated  things  to  humanity.  It  would 
not  be  so  difficult,  of  course,  to  understand  that  men  might 
readily  have  dispensed  with  jewel-wearing,  which  indeed 
was  never  considered  in  the  best  of  taste  as  a  masculine 
practice  except  in  barbarous  countries,  but  it  would  have 
staggered  the  prophet  Jeremiah  to  have  his  query  '  Can  a 
maid  forget  her  ornaments  ? '  answered  in  the  affirmative." 

The  doctor  laughed. 

"  Jeremiah  was  a  very  wise  man,"  he  said,  "  and  if  his 
attention  had  been  drawn  to  the  subject  of  economic  equal- 
ity and  its  effect  upon  the  relation  of  the  sexes,  I  am  sure 
he  would  have  foreseen  as  one  of  its  logical  results  the 
growth  of  a  sentiment  of  quite  as  much  philosophy  concern- 
ing personal  ornamentation  on  the  part  of  women  as  men 
have  ever  displayed.  He  would  not  have  been  surprised  to 
learn  that  one  effect  of  that  equality  as  between  men  and 
women  had  been  to  revolutionize  women's  attitude  on  the 
whole  question  of  dress  so  completely  that  the  most  bilious 
of  misogynists-  -if  indeed  any  were  left — would  no  longer  be 
able  to  accuse  them  of  being  more  absorbed  in  that  interest 
than  are  men." 


128  EQUALITY. 

"  Doctor,  doctor,  do  not  ask  me  to  believe  that  the  desire 
to  make  herself  attractive  has  ceased  to  move  woman  ! " 

"  Excuse  me,  I  did  not  mean  to  say  anything-  of  the 
sort,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  I  spoke  of  the  disproportionate 
development  of  that  desire  which  tends  to  defeat  its  own 
end  by  over-ornament  and  excess  of  artifice.  If  we  may 
judge  from  the  records  of  your  time,  this  was  quite  gener- 
ally the  result  of  the  excessive  devotion  to  dress  on  the  part 
of  your  women  ;  was  it  not  so  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly.  Overdressing,  overexertion  to  be  at- 
tractive, was  the  greatest  drawback  to  the  real  attractiveness 
of  women  in  my  day." 

"  And  how  was  it  with  the  men  ? " 

"  That  could  not  be  said  of  any  men  worth  calling  men. 
There  were,  of  course,  the  dandies,  but  most  men  paid  too 
little  attention  to  their  appearance  rather  than  too  much." 

"  That  is  to  say,  one  sex  paid  too  much  attention  to  dress 
and  the  other  too  little  ?  " 

"  That  was  it." 

"  Very  well ;  the  efPect  of  economic  equality  of  the  sexes 
and  the  consequent  independence  of  women  at  all  times  as 
to  maintenance  upon  men  is  that  women  give  much  less 
thought  to  dress  than  in  your  day  and  men  considerably 
more.  No  one  would  indeed  think  of  suggesting  that  either 
sex  is  nowadays  more  absorbed  in  setting  off  its  personal 
attractions  than  the  other.  Individuals  difPer  as  to  their  in- 
terest in  this  matter,  but  the  difference  is  not  along  the  line 
of  sex." 

"But  why  do  you  attribute  this  miracle,"  I  exclaimed, 
"  for  miracle  it  seems,  to  the  effect  of  economic  equality  on 
the  relation  of  men  and  women  ? " 

"  Because  from  the  moment  that  equality  became  estab- 
lished between  them  it  ceased  to  be  a  whit  more  the  interest 
of  women  to  make  themselves  attractive  and  desirable  to 
men  than  for  men  to  produce  the  same  impression  upon 
women." 

"  Meaning  thereby  that  previous  to  the  establishment  of 
economic  equality  between  men  and  women  it  w^as  decidedly 
more  the  interest  of  the  women  to  make  themselves  x^erson- 
allv  attractive  than  of  the  men." 


"CAN  A  MAID  FORGET  HER  ORNAMENTS r'   129 

"  Assuredly,"  said  the  doctor.  "Tell  me  to  what  mo- 
tive did  men  in  your  day  ascribe  the  excessive  devotion  of 
the  other  sex  to  matters  of  dress  as  compared  with  men's 
comparative  neglect  of  the  subject  ? " 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  we  did  much  clear  thinking-  on  the 
subject,  in  fact,  anything  which  had  any  sexual  sugges^ 
tion  about  it  was  scarcely  ever  treated  in  any  other  than  a 
sentimental  or  jesting  tone." 

-  That  is  indeed,"  said  the  doctor,  "  a  striknig  trait  of 
your  age,  though  explainable  enough  in  view  of  the  utter 
hypocrisy  underlying  the  entire  relation  of  the  sexes,  the 
pretended  chivalric  deference  to  women  on  the  one  hand, 
coupled  with  their  practical  suppression  on  the  other,  but 
you  must  have  had  some  theory  to  account  for  women's  ex- 
cessive devotion  to  personal  adornment." 

''  The  theory,  I  think,  was  that  handed  down  from  the 
ancients— namely,  that  women  were  naturally  vainer  than 
men.  But  they  did  not  like  to  hear  that  said  :  so  the  polite 
way  of  accounting  for  the  obvious  fact  that  they  cared  so 
much  more  for  dress  than  did  men  was  that  they  were  more 
sensitive  to  beauty,  more  unselfishly  desirous  of  pleasing, 
and  other  agreeable  phrases. 

"And  did  it  not  occur  to  you  that  the  real  reason  why 
woman  gave  so  much  thought  to  devices  for  enhancing  her 
beauty  was  simply  that,  owing  to  her  economic  dependence 
on  man's  favor,  a  woman's  face  was  her  fortune,  and  that 
the  reason  men  were  so  careless  for  the  most  part  as  to  their 
personal  appearance  was  that  their  fortune  in  no  way  de- 
pended on  their  beauty ;  and  that  even  when  it  came  to  com- 
mending themselves  to  the  favor  of  the  other  sex  their  eco- 
nomic position  told  more  potently  in  their  favor  than  any 
question  of  personal  advantages  ?  Surely  this  obvious  con- 
sideration fully  explained  woman's  greater  devotion  to  per- 
sonal adornment,  without  assuming  any  difference  what- 
ever in  the  natural  endowment  of  the  sexes  as  to  vanity." 

"  And  consequently,"  I  put  in,  "  when  women  ceased  any 
more  to  depend  for  their  economic  welfare  upon  men's 
favor,  it  ceased  to  be  their  main. aim  in  life  to  make  them- 
selves attractive  to  men's  eyes  ?  " 

''Precisely  so,  to  their  unspeakable    gain  in  comfort. 


130  EQUALITY. 

dignity,  and  freedom  of  mind  for  more  important  intei^ 
ests." 

"  But  to  the  diminution,  I  suspect,  of  the  ]3icturesqueness 
of  the  social  panorama  ? " 

"  Not  at  all,  but  most  decidedly  to  its  notable  advantage. 
So  far  as  we  can  judge,  what  claim  the  women  of  your  pe- 
riod had  to  be  regarded  as  attractive  was  achieved  distinctly 
in  spite  of  their  efforts  to  make  themselves  so.  Let  us  re- 
call that  we  are  talking  about  that  excessive  concern  of 
women  for  the  enhancement  of  their  charms  which  led  to 
a  mad  race  after  effect  that  for  the  most  part  defeated  the 
end  sought.  Take  away  the  economic  motive  which  made 
women's  attractiveness  to  men  a  means  of  getting  on  in  life, 
and  there  remained  Nature's  impulse  to  attract  the  admi- 
ration of  the  other  sex,  a  motive  quite  strong  enough  for 
beauty's  end,  and  the  more  effective  for  not  being  too 
strong." 

"  It  is  easy  enough  to  see,"  I  said,  "  why  the  economic  in- 
dependence of  women  should  have  had  the  effect  of  moder- 
ating to  a  reasonable  measure  their  interest  in  personal 
adornment ;  but  why  should  it  have  operated  in  the  oppo- 
site direction  upon  men,  in  making  them  more  attentive  to 
dress  and  personal  appearance  than  before  ? " 

"  For  the  simple  reason  that  their  economic  superiority 
to  women  having  disappeared,  they  must  henceforth  depend 
wholly  upon  personal  attractiveness  if  they  would  either 
win  the  favor  of  women  or  retain  it  when  won." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

WHAT  THE   REVOLUTION  DID  FOR  WOMEN. 

"  It  occurs  to  me,  doctor,"  I  said,  "  that  it  would  have 
been  even  better  worth  the  while  of  a  woman  of  my  day  to 
have  slept  over  till  now  than  for  me,  seeing  that  the  estab- 
lishment of  economic  equality  seems  to  have  meant  for 
more  for  women  than  for  men." 

"Edith  would  perhaps  not  have  been  pleased  with  the 


WHAT   THE  REVOLUTION  DID  FOR  WOMEN.   131 

substitution,"  said  the  doctor ;  ''  but  really  there  is  much  in 
what  you  say,  for  the  establishment  of  economic  equality 
did  in  fact  mean  incomparably  more  for  women  than  for 
men.  In  your  day  the  condition  of  the  mass  of  men  was 
abject  as  compared  with  their  present  state,  but  the  lot  of 
women  was  abject  as  compared  with  that  of  the  men.  The 
most  of  men  were  indeed  the  servants  of  the  rich,  but  the 
woman  was  subject  to  the  man  whether  he  were  rich  or 
poor,  and  in  the  latter  and  more  common  case  was  thus  the 
servant  of  a  servant.  However  low  down  in  poverty  a  man 
might  be,  he  had  one  or  more  lower  even  than  he  in  the 
persons  of  the  women  dependent  on  him  and  subject  to  his 
will.  At  the  very  bottom  of  the  social  heap,  bearing  the 
accumulated  burden  of  the  whole  mass,  was  woman.  All 
the  tyrannies  of  soul  and  mind  and  body  which  the  race 
endured,  weighed  at  last  with  cumulative  force  upon  her. 
So  far  beneath  even  the  mean  estate  of  man  was  that  of 
woman  that  it  would  have  been  a  mighty  uplift  for  her 
could  she  have  only  attained  his  level.  But  the  great  Revo- 
lution not  merely  lifted  her  to  an  equality  with  man  but 
raised  them  both  with  the  same  mighty  upthrust  to  a  plane 
of  moral  dignity  and  material  welfare  as  much  above  the 
former  state  of  man  as  his  former  state  had  been  above  that 
of  woman.  If  men  then  owe  gratitude  to  the  Revolution, 
how  much  greater  must  women  esteem  their  debt  to  it !  If 
to  the  men  the  voice  of  the  Revolution  was  a  call  to  a  higher 
and  nobler  plane  of  living,  to  woman  it  was  as  the  voice  of 
God  calling  her  to  a  new  creation." 

"  Undoubtedly,"  I  said,  "  the  women  of  the  poor  had  a 
pretty  abject  time  of  it,  but  the  women  of  the  rich  certainly 
were  not  oppressed." 

"The  women  of  the  rich,"  replied  the  doctor,  "were 
numerically  too  insignificant  a  proportion  of  the  mass  of 
women  to  be  worth  considering  in  a  general  statement  of 
woman's  condition  in  your  day.  Nor,  for  that  matter,  do 
we  consider  their  lot  preferable  to  that  of  their  poorer 
sisters.  It  is  true  that  they  did  not  endure  physical  hard- 
ship, but  were,  on  the  contrary,  petted  and  spoiled  by  their 
men  protectors  like  over-indulged  children  ;  but  that  seems 
to  us  not  a  sort  of  life  to  be  desired.    So  far  as  we  can  learn 


132  EQUALITY. 

from  contemporary  accounts  and  social  pictures,  the  women 
of  the  rich  lived  in  a  hothouse  atmosphere  of  adulation  and 
affectation,  altogether  less  favorable  to  moral  or  mental  de- 
velopment than  the  harder  conditions  of  the  women  of  the 
poor.  A  woman  of  to-day,  if  she  were  doomed  to  go  back 
to  live  in  your  world,  would  beg  at  least  to  be  reincarnated 
as  a  scrub  woman  rather  than  as  a  wealthy  woman  of  fash- 
ion. The  latter  rather  than  the  former  seems  to  us  the  sort 
of  woman  which  most  completely  typified  the  degradation 
of  the  sex  in  your  age." 

As  the  same  thought  had  occurred  to  me,  even  in  my 
former  life,  I  did  not  argue  the  point. 

''  The  so-called  woman  movement,  the  beginning  of  the 
great  transformation  in  her  condition,"  continued  the  doc- 
tor, "  was  already  making  quite  a  stir  in  your  day.  You 
must  have  heard  and  seen  much  of  it,  and  may  have  even 
known  some  of  the  noble  women  who  were  the  early 
leaders." 

"  Oh,  yes  "  I  replied.  "  There  was  a  great  stir  about  wom- 
en's rights,  but  the  programme  then  announced  was  by  no 
means  revolutionary.  It  only  aimed  at  securing  the  right  to 
vote,  together  with  various  changes  in  the  laws  about  prop- 
erty-holding by  women,  the  custody  of  children  in  divorces, 
and  such  details.  I  assure  you  that  the  women  no  more 
than  the  men  had  at  that  time  any  notion  of  revolutionizing 
the  economic  system." 

"So  we  understand,"  replied  the  doctor.  "In  that  re- 
spect the  women's  struggle  for  independence  resembled 
revolutionary  movements  in  general,  which,  in  their  earlier 
stages,  go  blundering  and  stumbling  along  in  such  a  seem- 
ingly erratic  and  illogical  way  that  it  takes  a  philosopher  to 
calculate  what  outcome  to  expect.  The  calculation  as  to  the 
ultimate  outcome  of  the  women's  movement  was.  however, 
as  simple  as  was  the  same  calculation  in  the  case  of  Avhat 
you  called  the  labor  movement.  What  the  women  were 
after  was  independence  of  men  and  equality  with  them, 
while  the  workingmen's  desire  was  to  put  an  end  to  their 
vassalage  to  capitalists.  Now,  the  key  to  the  fetters  the 
women  wore  was  the  same  that  locked  the  shackles  of  the 
workers.    It  was  the  economic  key,  the  control  of  the  means 


WHAT  THE  REVOLUTION   DID   FOR  WOMEN.    133 

of  subsistence.  Men,  as  a  sex,  held  that  power  over  women, 
and  the  rich  as  a  class  held  it  over  the  working  masses. 
The  secret  of  the  sexual  bondage  and  of  the  industrial  bond- 
age was  the  same — namely,  the  unequal  distribution  of  the 
wealth  power,  and  the  change  which  was  necessary  to  put 
an  end  to  both  forms  of  bondage  must  obviously  be  eco- 
nomic equalization,  which  in  the  sexual  as  in  the  industrial 
relation  would  at  once  insure  the  substitution  of  co-opera- 
tion for  coercion. 

"  The  first  leaders  of  the  women's  revolt  were  unable  to 
see  beyond  the  ends  of  their  noses,  and  consequently  as- 
cribed their  subject  condition  and  the  abuses  they  endured  to 
the  wickedness  of  man,  and  appeared  to  believe  that  the 
only  remedy  necessary  was  a  moral  reform  on  his  part. 
This  was  the  period  during  which  such  expressions  as  the 
'tyrant  man'  and  'man  the  monster'  were  watchwords 
of  the  agitation.  The  champions  of  the  women  fell  into 
precisely  the  same  mistake  committed  by  a  large  propor- 
tion of  the  early  leaders  of  the  workingmen,  who  wasted 
good  breath  and  wore  out  their  tempers  in  denouncing  the 
capitalists  as  the  willful  authors  of  all  the  ills  of  the  pro- 
letarian. This  was  worse  than  idle  rant ;  it  was  misleading 
and  blinding.  The  men  were  essentially  no  worse  than  the 
women  they  oppressed  nor  the  capitalists  than  the  workmen 
they  exploited.  Put  workingmen  in  the  places  of  the  cap- 
italists and  they  would  have  done  just  as  the  capitalists 
were  doing.  In  fact,  whenever  workingmen  did  become 
capitalists  they  were  commonly  said  to  make  the  hardest 
sort  of  masters.  So,  also,  if  women  could  have  changed 
places  with  the  men,  they  would  undoubtedly  have  dealt 
with  the  men  precisely  as  the  men  had  dealt  with  them. 
It  was  the  system  which  permitted  human  beings  to  come 
into  relations  of  superiority  and  inferiority  to  one  another 
which  was  the  cause  of  the  whole  evil.  Power  over  others 
is  necessarily  demoralizing  to  the  master  and  degrading  to 
the  subject.  Equality  is  the  only  moral  relation  between 
human  beings.  Any  reform  which  should  result  in  remedy- 
ing the  abuse  of  women  by  men,  or  workingmen  by  capi- 
talists, must  therefore  be  addressed  to  equalizing  theii' 
economic  condition.  Not  till  the  women,  as  well  as  the 
10 


134  EQUALITY. 

workingmen,  gave  over  the  folly  of  attacking  the  conse- 
quences of  economic  inequality  and  attacked  the  inequality 
itself,  was  there  any  hof>e  for  the  enfranchisement  of  either 
class. 

"  The  utterly  inadequate  idea  which  the  early  leaders  of 
the  women  had  of  the  great  salvation  they  must  have,  and 
how  it  must  come,  are  curiously  illustrated  by  their  enthusi- 
asm for  the  various  so-called  temperance  agitations  of  the 
period  for  the  purpose  of  checking  drunkenness  among  men. 
The  special  interest  of  the  women  as  a  class  in  this  reform  in 
men's  manners — for  women  as  a  rule  did  not  drink  intoxi- 
cants— consisted  in  the  calculation  that  if  the  men  drank  less 
they  would  be  less  likely  to  abuse  them,  and  would  jDrovide 
more  liberally  for  their  maintenance  ;  that  is  to  say,  their 
highest  aspirations  were  limited  to  the  hope  that,  by  re- 
forming the  morals  of  their  masters,  they  might  secure  a 
little  better  treatment  for  themselves.  The  idea  of  abolish- 
ing the  mastership  had  not  yet  occurred  to  them  as  a  possi- 
bility. 

"  This  point,  by  the  way,  as  to  the  efforts  of  women  in  your 
day  to  reform  men's  drinking  habits  by  law  rather  strik- 
ingly suggests  the  ditt'erence  between  the  position  of  women 
then  and  now  in  their  relation  to  men.  If  nowadays  men 
were  addicted  to  any  practice  which  made  them  seriously 
and  generally  offensive  to  women,  it  would  not  occur  to  the 
latter  to  attempt  to  curb  it  by  law.  Our  spirit  of  personal 
sovereignty  and  the  rightful  independence  of  the  individual 
in  all  matters  mainly  self -regarding  would  indeed  not  toler- 
ate any  of  the  legal  interferences  with  the  private  practices 
of  individuals  so  common  in  your  day.  But  the  women 
would  not  find  force  necessary  to  correct  the  manners  of 
the  men.  Their  absolute  economic  independence,  whether 
in  or  out  of  marriage,  would  enable  them  to  use  a  more 
potent  influence.  It  w^ould  presently  be  found  that  the  men 
who  made  themselves  offensive  to  women's  susceptibilities 
would  sue  for  their  favor  in  vain.  But  it  was  practically 
impossible  for  women  of  your  day  to  protect  themselves  or 
assert  their  wills  by  assuming  that  attitude.  It  was  econom- 
ically a  necessity  for  a  woman  to  marry,  or  at  least  of  so 
great  advantage  to  her  that  she  could  not  well  dictate  terms 


WHAT  THE  REVOLUTION  DID  FOR  WOMEN.   135 

to  lier  suitors  unless  very  fortunately  situated,  and  once 
married  it  was  the  practical  understanding  that  in  return 
for  her  maintenance  by  her  husband  she  must  hold  herself 
at  his  disposal." 

"  It  sounds  horribly,"  I  said,  "  at  this  distance  of  time,  but 
I  beg  you  to  believe  that  it  was  not  always  quite  as  bad  as 
it  sounds.  The  better  men  exercised  their  power  with  con- 
sideration, and  with  persons  of  refinement  the  wife  virtu- 
ally retained  her  self-control,  and  for  that  matter  in  many 
families  the  woman  was  practically  the  head  of  the  house." 

"No  doubt,  no  doubt,"  replied  the  doctor.  "So  it  has 
always  been  under  every  form  of  servitude.  However  abso- 
lute the  power  of  a  master,  it  has  been  exercised  with  a  fair 
degree  of  humanity  in  a  large  proportion  of  instances,  and  in 
many  cases  the  nominal  slave,  when  of  strong  character,  has 
in  reality  exercised  a  controlling  influence  over  the  master. 
This  observed  fact  is  not,  however,  considered  a  valid  argu- 
ment for  subjecting  human  beings  to  the  arbitrary  will  of 
others.  Speaking  generally,  it  is  undoubtedly  true  that  both 
the  condition  of  women  when  subjected  to  men,  as  well  as 
tiiat  of  the  poor  in  subjection  to  the  rich,  were  in  fact  far 
less  intolerable  than  it  seems  to  us  they  possibly  could  have 
been.  As  the  physical  life  of  man  can  be  maintained  and 
often  thrive  in  any  climate  from  the  poles  to  the  equator,  so 
his  moral  nature  has  shown  its  power  to  live  and  even  put 
forth  fragrant  flowers  under  the  most  terrible  social  con- 
ditions. 

"  In  order  to  realize  the  prodigious  debt  of  woman  to  the 
great  Revolution,"  resumed  the  doctor,  "  we  must  remember 
that  the  bondage  from  which  it  delivered  her  was  incom- 
parably more  complete  and  abject  than  any  to  which  men 
had  ever  been  subjected  by  their  fellow-men.  It  was  en- 
forced not  by  a  single  but  by  a  triple  yoke.  The  first  yoke 
Avas  the  subjection  to  the  personal  and  class  rule  of  the  rich, 
which  the  mass  of  Avomen  bore  in  common  with  the  mass 
of  men.  The  other  two  yokes  were  peculiar  to  her.  One  of 
them  was  her  personal  subjection  not  only  in  the  sexual 
relation,  but  in  all  her  behavior  to  the  particular  man  on 
whom  she  depended  for  subsi;:tence.     The  thiixl  yoke  was 


136  EQUALITY. 

an  intellectual  and  moral  one,  and  consisted  in  the  slavish 
conformity  exacted  of  her  in  all  her  thinking,  speaking,  and 
acting  to  a  set  of  traditions  and  conventional  standards  cal- 
culated to  repress  all  that  was  spontaneous  and  individual, 
and  impose  an  artificial  uniformity  upon  both  the  inner  and 
outer  life. 

"  The  last  was  the  heaviest  yoke  of  the  three,  and  most 
disastrous  in  its  effects  botli  upon  women  directly  and  indi- 
rectly upon  mankind  through  the  degradation  of  the  mothers 
of  the  race.  Upon  the  woman  herself  the  effect  was  so  soul- 
stifling  and  mind-stunting  as  to  be  made  a  plausible  excuse 
for  treating  her  as  a  natural  inferior  by  men  not  philosoph- 
ical enough  to  see  that  what  they  would  make  an  excuse  for 
her  subjection  was  itself  the  result  of  that  subjection.  The 
explanation  of  woman's  submission  in  thought  and  action  to 
what  was  practically  a  slave  code — a  code  peculiar  to  her 
sex  and  scorned  and  derided  by  men — was  the  fact  that  the 
main  hope  of  a  comfortable  life  for  every  woman  consisted 
in  attracting  the  favorable  attention  of  some  man  who  could 
provide  for  her.  Now,  under  jour  economic  system  it  was 
very  desirable  for  a  man  who  sought  employment  to  think 
and  talk  as  his  employer  did  if  he  was  to  get  on  in  life. 
Yet  a  certain  degree  of  independence  of  mind  and  conduct 
was  conceded  to  men  by  their  economic  superiors  under 
most  circumstances,  so  long  as  they  were  not  actually  offen- 
sive, for,  after  all,  what  was  mainly  wanted  of  them  was  their 
labor.  But  the  relation  of  a  woman  to  the  man  Avho  sup- 
ported her  was  of  a  very  different  and  much  closer  char- 
acter. She  must  be  to  him  persona  grata,  as  your  diplo- 
mats used  to  say.  To  attract  him  she  must  be  personally 
pleasing  to  him,  must  not  offend  his  tastes  or  prejudices  by 
her  opinions  or  conduct.  Otherwise  he  would  be  likely  to 
prefer  some  one  else.  It  followed  from  this  fact  that  while 
a  boy's  training  looked  toward  fitting  him  to  earn  a  living, 
a  girl  was  educated  with  a  chief  end  to  making  her,  if  not 
pleasing,  at  least  not  displeasing  to  men. 

"  Now,  if  particular  women  had  been  especially  trained 
to  suit  particular  men's  tastes — trained  to  order,  so  to  speak 
— while  that  would  have  been  offensive  enough  to  any  idea 
of  feminine  dignity,  yet  it  would  have  been  far  less  dis- 


WHAT  THE  REVOLUTION  DID  FOR  WOMEN.    137 

astrous,  for  many  men  would  have  vastly  preferred  women 
of  independent  minds  and  original  and  natural  opinions. 
But  as  it  was  not  known  beforehand  what  particular  men 
would  support  particular  women,  the  only  safe  way  was  to 
train  girls  with  a  view  to  a  negative  rather  than  a  positive 
attractiveness,  so  that  at  least  they  might  not  offend  average 
masculine  prejudices.  This  ideal  was  most  likely  to  be  se- 
cured by  educating  a  girl  to  conform  herself  to  the  custorri- 
ary  traditional  and  fashionable  habits  of  thinking,  talking, 
and  behaving — in  a  word,  to  the  conventional  standards 
prevailing  at  the  time.  She  must  above  all  things  avoid  as 
a  contagion  any  new  or  original  ideas  or  lines  of  conduct  in 
any  important  respect,  especially  in  religious,  political,  and 
social  matters.  Her  mind,  that  is  to  say,  like  her  body, 
must  be  trained  and  dressed  according  to  the  current  fashion 
plates.  By  all  her  hopes  of  married  comfort  she  must  not 
be  known  to  have  any  peculiar  or  unusual  or  positive  no- 
tions on  any  subject  more  important  than  embroidery  or 
parlor  decoration.  Conventionality  in  the  essentials  having 
been  thus  secured,  the  brighter  and  more  piquant  she  could 
be  in  small  ways  and  frivolous  matters  the  better  for  her 
chances.  Have  I  erred  in  describing  the  working  of  your 
system  in  this  particular,  Julian  ?  " 

"No  doubt,"  I  replied,  "you  have  described  to  the  life 
the  correct  and  fashionable  ideal  of  feminine  education  in 
my  time,  but  there  were,  you  must  understand,  a  great  many 
Avomen  who  vyere  persons  of  entirely  original  and  serious 
minds,  who  dared  to  think  and  speak  for  themselves." 

"  Of  course  there  were.  They  were  the  prototypes  of  the 
universal  woman  of  to-day.  They  represented  the  coming 
woman,  who  to-day  has  come.  They  had  broken  for  them- 
selves the  conventional  trammels  of  their  sex,  and  proved 
to  the  world  the  potential  equality  of  women  with  men 
in  every  field  of  thought  and  action.  But  while  great 
minds  master  their  circumstances,  the  mass  of  minds  are 
mastered  by  them  and  formed  by  them.  It  is  when  we 
think  of  the  bearing  of  the  system  upon  this  vast  majority 
of  women,  and  how  the  virus  of  moral  and  mental  slavery 
through  their  veins  entered  into  the  blood  of  the  race,  that 
we  realize  how  tremendous  is  the  indictment  of  humanity 


138  EQUALITY. 

against  your  economic  arrangements  on  account  of  woman, 
and  how  vast  a  benefit  to  mankind  was  the  Revolution  that 
gave  free  mothers  to  the  race — free  not  merely  from  phys- 
ical but  from  moral  and  intellectual  fetters. 

"  I  referred  a  moment  ago,"  pursued  the  doctor,  '•  to  the 
close  parallelism  existing  in  your  time  between  the  indus- 
trial and  the  sexual  situation,  between  the  relations  of  the 
working  masses  to  the  capitalists,  and  those  of  the  women 
to  men.     It  is  strikingly  illustrated  in  yet  another  way. 

"The  subjection  of  the  workingmen  to  the  owners  of 
capital  was  insured  by  the  existence  at  all  times  of  a  large 
class  of  the  unemployed  ready  to  underbid  the  workers  and 
eager  to  get  employment  at  any  price  and  on  any  terms. 
This  was  the  club  with  which  the  capitalist  kept  down  the 
workers.  In  like  manner  it  was  the  existence  of  a  body  of 
unappropriated  women  which  riveted  the  yoke  of  women's 
subjection  to  men.  When  maintenance  was  the  difficult 
problem  it  was  in  your  day  there  were  many  men  who 
could  not  maintain  themselves,  and  a  vast  number  who 
could  not  maintain  women  in  addition  to  themselves.  The 
failure  of  a  man  to  marry  might  cost  him  hapj^iness,  but  in 
the  case  of  women  it  not  only  involved  loss  of  happiness, 
but,  as  a  rule,  exposed  them  to  the  pressure  or  peril  of  poverty, 
for  it  was  a  much  more  difficult  thing  for  women  than  for 
men  to  secure  an  adequate  support  by  their  own  efforts. 
The  result  was  one  of  the  most  shocking  spectacles  the  world 
has  ever  known — nothing  less,  in  fact,  than  a  state  of  rivalry 
and  competition  among  women  for  the  opportunity  of  mar- 
riage. To  realize  how  helpless  were  women  in  your  day, 
to  assume  toward  men  an  attitude  of  physical,  mental,  or 
moral  dignity  and  independence,  it  is  enough  to  remember 
their  terrible  disadvantage  in  w^hat  your  contemporaries 
called  with  brutal  plainness  the  marriage  market. 

"And  still  woman's  cup  of  humiliation  was  not  full. 
There  was  yet  another  and  more  dreadful  form  of  competi- 
tion by  her  own  sex  to  which  she  was  exposed.  Not  only 
was  there  a  constant  vast  surplus  of  unmarried  women  de- 
sirous of  securing  the  economic  support  wliich  marriage 
implied,  but  beneath  these  there  were  hordes  of  wretched 


WHAT  THE  REVOLUTION  DID  FOR  WOMEN.    139 

women,  hopeless  of  obtaining-  the  support  of  men  on  honor- 
able terms,  and  eager  to  sell  themselves  for  a  crust.  Julian, 
do  you  wonder  that,  of  all  the  aspects  of  the  horrible  mess 
you  called  civilization  in  the  nineteenth  century,  the  sexual 
relation  reeks  worst  ?  " 

"Our  philanthropists  w^ere  greatly  disturbed  over  w^hat 
we  called  the  social  evil,"  said  I — "  that  is,  the  existence  of 
this  great  multitude  of  outcast  women — but  it  w^as  not  com- 
mon to  diagnose  it  as  a  part  of  the  economic  problem.  It 
was  regarded  rather  as  a  moral  evil  resulting  from  the  de- 
pravity of  the  human  heart,  to  be  properly  dealt  w^itli  by 
moral  and  religious  influences." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know.  No  one  in  your  day,  of  course,  was 
allowed  to  intimate  that  the  economic  system  was  radically 
wicked,  and  consequently  it  was  customary  to  lay  off  all  its 
hideous  consequences  upon  poor  human  nature.  Yes,  I 
know  there  w^ere  i^eople  who  agreed  that  it  might  be  pos- 
sible by  preaching  to  lessen  the  horrors  of  the  social  evil 
while  yet  the  land  contained  millions  of  women  in  desper- 
ate need,  who  had  no  other  means  of  getting  bread  save  by 
catering  to  the  desires  of  men.  I  am  a  bit  of  a  phrenologist, 
and  have  often  wished  for  the  chance  of  examining  the  crani- 
al developments  of  a  nineteenth-century  j)liilanthropist  who 
honestly  believed  this,  if  indeed  any  of  them  honestly  did." 

"By  the  way,"  I  said,  " high-spirited  women,  even  in  my 
day,  objected  to  the  custom  that  required  them  to  take  their 
husbands'  names  on  marriage.  How^  do  you  manage  that 
now  ? " 

"  Women's  names  are  no  more  affected  by  marriage  than 
men's." 

"  But  how  about  the  children  ? " 

"  Girls  take  the  mother's  last  name  with  the  father's  as  a 
middle  name,  w^hile  with  boys  it  is  just  the  reverse." 

"  It  occm^s  to  me,"  I  said,  "  that  it  w^ould  be  surprising  if 
a  fact  so  profoundly  affecting  woman's  relations  with  man 
as  her  achievement  of  economic  independence,  had  not  modi- 
fied the  previous  conventional  standards  of  sexual  morality 
in  some  respects." 

''  Say  rather,"    replied  the  doctor,   "  that  the  economic 


140  EQUALITY. 

equalization  of  men  and  women  for  the  first  time  made  it 
possible  to  establish  their  relations  on  a  moral  basis.  The 
first  condition  of  ethical  action  in  any  relation  is  the  free- 
dom of  the  actor.  So  long  as  women's  economic  depend- 
ence upon  men  prevented  them  from  being  free  agents  in 
the  sexual  relation,  there  could  be  no  ethics  of  that  rela- 
tion. A  proper  ethics  of  sexual  conduct  was  first  made  pos- 
sible when  women  became  capable  of  independent  action 
through  the  attainment  of  economic  equality." 

"  It  would  have  startled  the  moralists  of  my  day,"  I  said, 
"to  be  told  that  we  had  no  sexual  ethics.  We  certainly 
had  a  very  strict  and  elaborate  system  of  'thou  shalt 
nots.'  " 

"  Of  course,  of  course,"  replied  my  companion.  ''  Let  us 
understand  each  other  exactly  at  this  point,  for  the  subject 
is  highly  important.  You  had,  as  you  say,  a  set  of  very 
rigid  rules  and  regulations  as  to  the  conduct  of  the  sexes — 
that  is,  especially  as  to  women — but  the  basis  of  it,  for  the 
most  part,  was  not  ethical  but  prudential,  the  object  being 
the  safeguarding  of  the  economic  interests  of  women  in 
their  relations  with  men.  Nothing  could  have  been  more 
important  to  the  protection  of  women  on  the  whole,  although 
so  often  bearing  cruelly  upon  them  individually,  than  these 
rules.  They  were  the  only  method  by  which,  so  long  as 
woman  remained  an  economically  helpless  and  dependent 
person,  she  and  her  children  could  be  even  partially  guarded 
from  masculine  abuse  and  neglect.  Do  not  imagine  for  a 
moment  that  I  v»^ould  speak  lightly  of  the  value  of  this 
social  code  to  the  race  during  the  time  it  was  necessary. 
But  because  it  was  entirely  based  upon  considerations  not 
suggested  by  the  natural  sanctities  of  the  sexual  relation  in 
itself,  but  wholly  upon  x^i'^idential  considerations  affecting 
economic  results,  it  would  be  an  inexact  use  of  terms  to 
call  it  a  system  of  ethics.  It  would  be  more  accurately  de- 
scribed as  a  code  of  sexual  economics — that  is  to  say,  a  set  of 
laws  and  customs  providing  for  the  economic  protection  of 
women  and  children  in  the  sexual  and  family  relation. 

"  The  marriage  contract  was  embellished  by  a  rich  em- 
broidery of  sentimental  and  religious  fancies,  but  I  need  not 
remind  you  that  its  essence  in  the  eyes  of  the  law  and  of 


WHAT  THE   REVOLUTION  DID   FOR  WOMEN.    141 

society  was  its  character  as  a  contract,  a  strictly  economic 
quid-pro-quo  transaction.  It  was  a  legal  undertaking  by 
the  man  to  maintain  the  woman  and  future  family  in  con- 
sideration of  her  surrender  of  herself  to  his  exclusive  dis- 
posal— that  is  to  say,  on  condition  of  obtaining  a  lien  on 
his  property,  she  became  a  part  of  it.  The  only  point  which 
the  law  or  the  social  censor  looked  to  as  fixing  the  morality 
or  immorality,  purity  or  impurity,  of  any  sexual  act  was 
simply  the  question  whether  this  bargain  had  been  pre- 
viously executed  in  accordance  with  legal  forms.  That 
point  properly  attended  to,  everything  that  formerly  had 
been  regarded  as  wrong  and  impure  for  the  parties  became 
rightful  and  chaste.  They  might  have  been  persons  unfit 
to  marry  or  to  be  j)arents ;  they  might  have  been  drawn  to- 
gether by  the  basest  and  most  sordid  motives  ;  the  bride  may 
have  been  constrained  by  need  to  accept  a  man  she  loathed ; 
youth  may  have  been  sacrificed  to  decrepitude,  and  every 
natural  propriety  outraged ;  but  according  to  your  standard, 
if  the  contract  had  been  legally  executed,  all  that  followed  was 
white  and  beautiful.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  contract  had 
been  neglected,  and  a  woman  had  accepted  a  lover  without 
it,  then,  however  great  their  love,  however  fit  their  union  in 
every  natural  way,  the  woman  was  cast  out  as  unchaste,  im- 
pure, and  abandoned,  and  consigned  to  the  living  death  of 
social  ignominy.  Now  let  me  repeat  that  we  fully  recognize 
the  excuse  for  this  social  law  under  your  atrocious  system 
as  the  only  possible  way  of  protecting  the  economic  inter- 
ests of  women  and  children,  but  to  speak  of  it  as  ethical  or 
moral  in  its  view  of  the  sex  relation  is  certainly  about  as 
absurd  a  misuse  of  words  as  could  be  committed.  On  the 
contrary,  we  must  say  that  it  was  a  law  which,  in  order  to 
protect  women's  material  interests,  was  obliged  deliberately 
to  disregard  all  the  laws  that  are  written  on  the  heart  touch- 
ing such  matters. 

"  It  seems  from  the  records  that  there  was  much  talk  in 
your  day  about  the  scandalous  fact  that  there  were  two  dis- 
tinct moral  codes  in  sexual  matters,  one  for  men  and  another 
for  women — men  refusing  to  be  bound  by  the  law  imposed 
on  women,  and  society  not  even  attempting  to  enforce  it 
against  them.     It  was  claimed  by  the  advocates  of  one  code 


142  EQUALITY. 

for  both  sexes  that  what  was  wrong  or  right  for  woman  was 
so  for  man,  and  that  there  should  be  one  standard  of  right 
and  wrong,  purity  and  impurity,  morality  and  immorality, 
for  both.  That  was  obviously  the  correct  view  of  the  mat- 
ter ;  but  what  moral  gain  would  there  have  been  for  the  race 
even  if  men  could  have  been  induced  to  accept  the  women's 
code — a  code  so  utterly  unworthy  in  its  central  idea  of  the 
ethics  of  the  sexual  relation  ?  Nothing  but  the  bitter  duress 
of  their  economic  bondage  had  forced  w^omen  to  accept  a 
law  against  which  the  blood  of  ten  thousand  stainless  Mar- 
guerites, and  the  ruined  lives  of  a  countless  multitude  of 
women,  whose  only  fault  had  been  too  tender  loving,  cried 
to  God  perpetually.  Yes,  there  should  doubtless  be  one 
standard  of  conduct  for  both  men  and  women  as  there  is  now, 
but  it  was  not  to  be  the  slave  code,  with  its  sordid  basis, 
imposed  upon  the  women  by  their  necessities.  The  common 
and  higher  code  for  men  and  women  which  the  conscience 
of  the  race  demanded  w^ould  first  become  possible,  and  at 
once  thereafter  would  become  assured  when  men  and  women 
stood  over  against  each  other  in  the  sexual  relation,  as  in 
all  others,  in  attitudes  of  absolute  equality  and  mutual  inde- 
pendence." 

"  After  all,  doctor,"  I  said,  "  although  at  first  it  startled 
me  a  little  to  hear  you  say  that  we  had  no  sexual  ethics,  yet 
you  really  say  no  more,  nor  use  stronger  words,  than  did  our 
poets  and  satirists  in  treating  the  same  theme.  The  com- 
plete divergence  between  our  conventional  sexual  morality 
and  the  instinctive  morality  of  love  was  a  commonplace 
w4th  us,  and  furnished,  as  doubtless  you  well  know,  the 
motive  of  a  large  part  of  our  romantic  and  dramatic  litera- 
ture." 

"Yes,"  replied  the  doctor,  "nothing  could  be  added  to 
the  force  and  feeling  with  which  your  writers  exposed  the 
cruelty  and  injustice  of  the  iron  law  of  society  as  to  these 
matters — a  law  made  doubly  cruel  and  unjust  by  the  fact 
that  it  bore  almost  exclusively  on  women.  But  their  de- 
nunciations were  w^asted,  and  the  plentiful  emotions  they 
evoked  were  barren  of  result,  for  the  reason  that  they  failed 
entirely  to  point  out  the  basic  fact  that  was  responsible  for 
the  law  they  attacked,  and  must  be  abolished  if  the  law 


AT  THE  GYMNASIUM.  143 

were  ever  to  be  replaced  by  a  just  ethics.  That  fact,  a& 
Ave  have  seen,  was  the  system  of  wealth  distribution,  by 
which  woman's  only  hope  of  comfort  and  security  was 
made  to  depend  on  her  success  in  obtaining  a  legal  guar- 
antee of  support  from  some  man  as  the  price  of  her  per- 
son." 

"It  seems  to  me,"  I  observed,  "that  when  the  women 
once  fairly  opened  their  eyes  to  what  the  revolutionary  pro- 
gramme meant  for  their  sex  by  its  demand  of  economic 
equality  for  all,  self-interest  must  have  made  them  more 
ardent  devotees  of  the  cause  than  even  the  men." 

"  It  did  indeed,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  Of  course  the  blind- 
ing, binding  influence  of  conventionality,  tradition,  and 
prejudice,  as  well  as  the  timidity  bred  of  immemorial  servi- 
tude, for  a  long  while  prevented  the  mass  of  women  from 
understanding  the  greatness  of  the  deliverance  which  was 
offered  them  ;  but  when  once  they  did  understand  it  they 
threw  themselves  into  the  revolutionary  movement  with  a 
unanimity  and  enthusiasm  that  had  a  decisive  effect  upon 
the  struggle.  Men  might  regard  economic  equality  with 
favor  or  disfavor,  according  to  their  economic  positions,  but 
every  woman,  simply  because  she  was  a  woman,  was  bound 
to  be  for  it  as  soon  as  she  got  it  through  her  head  what  it 
meant  for  her  half  of  the  race." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

AT  THE   GYMNASIUM. 

Edith  had  come  up  on  the  house  top  in  time  to  hear  the 
last  of  our  talk,  and  now  she  said  to  her  father : 

"  Considering  what  you  have  been  telling  Julian  about 
women  nowadays  as  compared  with  the  old  days,  I  wonder 
if  he  would  not  be  interested  in  visiting  the  gymnasium 
this  afternoon  and  seeing  something  of  how  we  train  our- 
selves ?  There  are  going  to  be  some  foot  races  and  air  races, 
and  a  num.ber  of  other  tests.  It  is  the  afternoon  when  our 
yoar  has  the  grounds,  and  I  ought  to  be  there  anyway." 


144  EQUALITY. 

To  this  suggestion,  which  was  eagerly  accepted,  I  owe  one 
of  the  most  interesting  and  instructive  experiences  of  those 
early  days  during  which  I  was  forming  the  acquaintance 
of  the  twentieth-century  civilization. 

At  the  door  of  the  gymnasium  Edith  left  us  to  join  her 
class  in  the  amphitheater. 

"  Is  she  to  compete  in  anything  ?  "  I  asked, 

"  All  her  year — that  is,  all  of  her  age — in  this  ward  will 
be  entered  in  more  or  less  events." 

"  What  is  Edith's  specialty  ? "  I  asked. 

"  As  to  specialties,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  our  people  do  not 
greatly  cultivate  them.  Of  course,  privately  they  do  what 
they  please,  but  the  object  of  our  public  training  is  not  so 
much  to  develop  athletic  specialties  as  to  produce  an  all- 
around  and  well-proportioned  physical  development.  We 
Slim  first  of  all  to  secure  a  certain  standard  of  strength  and 
measurement  for  legs,  thighs,  arms,  loins,  chest,  shoulders, 
neck,  etc.  This  is  not  the  highest  point  of  perfection  either 
of  physique  or  performance.  It  is  the  necessary  minimum. 
All  who  attain  it  may  be  regarded  as  sound  and  proper 
men  and  women.  It  is  then  left  to  them  as  they  please  in- 
dividually to  develop  themselves  beyond  that  point  in  spe- 
cial directions. 

"  How  long  does  this  public  gymnastic  education  last  ? " 

"  It  is  as  obligatory  as  any  part  of  the  educational  course 
until  the  body  is  set,  which  we  put  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
four  ;  but  it  is  practically  kept  up  through  life,  although,  of 
course,  that  is  according  to  just  how  one  feels." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  take  regular  exercise  in  a  gym- 
nasium ? " 

"  Why  should  I  not  ?  It  is  no  less  of  an  object  to  me  to 
be  well  at  sixty  than  it  was  at  twenty." 

"Doctor,"  said  I,  "if  I  seem  surprised  you  must  remem- 
ber that  in  my  day  it  was  an  adage  that  no  man  over  forty- 
five  ought  to  allow  himself  to  run  for  a  car,  and  as  for 
women,  they  stopped  running  at  fifteen,  when  their  bodies 
were  put  in  a  vise,  their  legs  in  bags,  their  toes  in  thumb- 
screws, and  they  bade  farewell  to  health." 

"You  do  indeed  seem  to  have  disagreed  terribly  with 
your  bodies,"  said  the  doctor.     "  The  women  ignored  theirs 


AT  THE   GYMNASIUM.  I45 

altogether,  and  as  for  tlie  men,  so  far  as  I  can  make  out,  up 
to  forty  they  abused  tlieir  bodies,  and  after  forty  their 
bodies  abused  them,  which,  after  all,  was  only  fair.  The 
vast  mass  of  pliysical  misery  caused  by  weakness  and  sick- 
ness, resulting  from- wholly  preventable  causes,  seems  to  us, 
next  to  the  moral  aspect  of  the  subject,  to  be  one  of  the 
largest  single  items  chargeable  to  your  system  of  economic 
inequality,  for  to  that  primal  cause  nearly  every  feature  of 
the  account  appears  directly  or  indirectly  traceable.  Neither 
souls  nor  bodies  could  be  considered  by  your  men  in  their 
mad  struggle  for  a  living,  and  for  a  grip  on  the  livelihood 
of  others,  while  the  complicated  system  of  bondage  under 
which  the  women  were  held  perverted  mind  and  body  alike,' 
till  it  was  a  wonder  if  there  were  any  health  left  in  them." 

On  entering  the  amphitheater  we  saw  gathered  at  one  end 
of  the  arena  some  two  or  three  liundred  young  men  and 
women  talking  and  lounging.  These,  the  doctor  told  me, 
were  Edith's  companions  of  the  class  of  1978,  being  all 
those  of  twenty-two  years  of  age,  born  in  that  ward  or  since 
coming  there  to  live.  I  viewed  with  admiration  the  figures 
of  these  young  men  and  women,  all  strong  and  beautiful  as 
the  gods  and  goddesses  of  Olympus, 

"  Am  I  to  understand,"  I  asked,  "  that  this  is  a  fair  sample 
of  your  youth,  and  not  a  picked  assembly  of  the  more  ath- 
letic ? " 

"  Certainly,"  he  replied  ;  "  all  the  youth  in  their  twenty- 
third  year  who  live  in  this  ward  are  here  to-day,  with  per- 
haps two  or  three  exceptions  on  account  of  some  special 
reason." 

"  But  where  are  the  cripples,  the  deformed,  the  feeble, 
the  consumptive  ? " 

"  Do  you  see  that  young  man  yonder  in  the  chair  with 
so  many  of  the  others  about  him  ? "  asked  the  doctor. 

"  Ah  !  there  is  then  at  least  one  invalid  ? " 

"  Yes,"  replied  my  companion ;  "  he  met  with  an  acci- 
dent, and  will  never  be  vigorous.  He  is  the  only  sickly  one 
of  the  class,  and  you  see  how  much  the  others  make  of  him. 
Your  cripples  and  sickly  were  so  many  that  pity  itself  grew 
weary  and  spent  of  tears,  and  compassion  callous  with  use ; 
but  with  us  thay  are  so  few  as  to  be  our  pets  and  darlings." 


146  EQUALITY. 

At  that  moment  a  bugle  sounded,  and  some  scores  of 
young-  men  and  women  dashed  by  us  in  a  foot  race.  While 
they  ran,  the  bugle  continued  to  sound  a  nerve-bracing 
strain.  The  thing  that  astonished  me  was  the  evenness  of 
the  finish,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  the  contestants  were  not 
specially  trained  for  racing,  but  were  merely  the  group 
which  in  the  round  of  tests  had  that  day  come  to  the  run- 
ning test.  In  a  race  of  similarly  unselected  competitors  in 
my  day,  they  would  have  been  strung  along  the  track  from 
the  finish  to  the  half,  and  the  most  of  them  nearest  that. 

"  Edith,  I  see,  was  third  in,"  said  the  doctor,  reading  from 
the  signals.  "  She  will  be  pleased  to  have  done  so  well,  see- 
ing you  were  here." 

The  next  event  was  a  surprise.  I  had  noticed  a  group  of 
youths  on  a  lofty  platform  at  the  far  end  of  the  amphithe- 
ater making  some  sort  of  preparations,  and  wondered  what 
they  were  going  to  do.  Now  suddenly,  at  the  sound  of  a 
trumpet,  I  saw  them  leap  forward  over  the  edge  of  the  plat- 
form. I  gave  an  involuntary  cry  of  horror,  for  it  was  a 
deadly  distance  to  the  ground  below^ 

"  It's  all  right,"  laughed  the  doctor,  and  the  next  mo- 
ment I  was  staring  up  at  a  score  of  young  men  and  women 
charging  through  the  air  fifty  feet  above  the  race  course. 

Then  followed  contests  in  ball-throwing  and  putting  the 
shot. 

"  It  is  plain  where  your  women  get  their  splendid  chests 
and  shoulders,"  said  I. 

"  You  have  noticed  that,  then  ! "  exclaimed  the  doctor. 

"  I  have  certainly  noticed,"  was  my  answer,  "  that  j^our 
modern  women  seem  generally  to  possess  a  vigorous  devel- 
opment and  appearance  of  power  above  the  waist  which 
were  only  occasionally  seen  in  our  day." 

"You  will  be  interested,  no  doubt,"  said  the  doctor,  "to 
have  your  impression  corroborated  by  positive  evidence.  Sup- 
pose we  leave  the  amphitheater  for  a  few  minutes  and  step 
into  the  anatomical  rooms.  It  is  indeed  a  rare  fortune  for 
an  anatomical  enthusiast  like  myself  to  have  a  pupil  so  well 
qualified  to  be  appreciative,  to  whom  to  point  out  the  efPect 
our  principle  of  social  equality,  and  the  best  opportunities 
of  culture  for  all,  have  had  in  modifying  toward  perfection 


AT  THE  GYMNASIUM.  147 

the  human  form  in  general,  and  especially  the  female  fig- 
ure. I  say  especially  the  female  figure,  for  that  had  been 
most  perverted  in  your  day  by  the  influences  which  denied 
woman  a  full  life.  Here  are  a  group  of  plaster  statues, 
based  on  the  lines  handed  down  to  us  by  the  anthropometric 
experts  of  the  last  decades  of  the  nineteenth  century,  to 
whom  we  are  vastly  indebted.  You  will  observe,  as  your 
remark  just  now  indicated  that  you  had  observed,  that  the 
tendency  was  to  a  spindling  and  inadequate  development 
above  the  waist  and  an  excessive  development  below.  The 
figure  seemed  a  little  as  if  it  had  softened  and  run  down 
like  a  sugar  cast  in  warm  weather.  See,  the  front  breadth 
flat  measurement  of  the  hips  is  actually  greater  than  across 
the  shoulders,  whereas  it  ought  to  be  an  inch  or  two  less, 
and  the  bulbous  effect  must  have  been  exaggerated  by  the 
bulging  mass  of  draperies  your  women  accumulated  about 
the  waist." 

At  his  words  I  raised  my  eyes  to  the  stony  face  of  the 
woman  figure,  the  charms  of  which  he  had  thus  disparaged, 
and  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  sightless  eyes  rested  on  mine 
with  an  expression  of  reproach,  of  which  my  heart  instantly 
confessed  the  justice.  I  had  been  the  contemporary  of  this 
type  of  women,  and  had  been  indebted  to  the  light  of  their 
eyes  for  all  that  made  life  worth  living.  Complete  or  not, 
as  might  be  their  beauty  by  modern  standards,  through 
them  I  had  learned  to  know  the  stress  of  the  ever-womanly, 
and  been  made  an  initiate  of  Nature's  sacred  mysteries. 
Well  might  these  stony  eyes  reproach  me  for  consenting  by 
my  silence  to  the  disparagement  of  charms  to  which  I  owed 
so  much,  by  a  man  of  another  age. 

"  Hush,  doctor,  hush  ! "  I  exclaimed.  "  No  doubt  you  are 
right,  but  it  is  not  for  me  to  hear  these  words." 

I  could  not  find  the  language  to  explain  what  was  in  my 
mind,  but  it  was  not  necessary.  The  doctor  understood,  and 
his  keen  gray  eyes  glistened  as  he  laid  his  hand  on  my 
shoulder. 

"  Right,  my  boy,  quite  right  I  That  is  the  thing  for  you 
to  say,  and  Edith  would  like  you  the  better  for  your  words, 
for  women  nowadaj^s  are  jealous  for  one  another's  honor,  as 
I  judge  they  were  not  in  your  day.     But,  on  the  other  hand, 


148  EQUALITY. 

if  there  were  present  in  this  room  disembodied  shades  of 
those  women  of  your  day,  they  would  rejoice  more  than  any 
others  could  at  the  fairer,  ampler  temples  liberty  has  built 
for  their  daughters'  souls  to  dwell  in. 

"Look  !"  he  added,  pointing  to  another  figure;  "this  is 
the  typical  woman  of  to-day,  the  lines  not  ideal,  but  based 
on  an  average  of  measurements  for  the  purpose  of  scientific 
comparison.  First,  you  will  observe  that  the  figure  is  over 
two  inches  taller  than  the  other.  Note  the  shoulders! 
They  have  gained  two  inches  in  width  relatively  to  the  hips, 
as  compared  with  the  figure  we  have  been  examining.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  girth  at  the  hips  is  greater,  showing 
more  powerful  muscular  development.  The  chest  is  an 
inch  and  a  half  deeper,  while  the  abdominal  measure  is  fully 
two  inches  deeper.  These  increased  developments  are  all 
over  and  above  what  the  mere  increase  in  stature  would  call 
for.  As  to  the  general  development  of  the  muscular  system, 
you  will  see  there  is  simply  no  comparison. 

"  Now,  what  is  the  explanation  ?  Simply  the  effect 
upon  woman  of  the  full,  free,  untrammeled  physical  life  to 
which  her  economic  independence  opened  the  way.  To  de- 
velop the  shoulders,  arms,  chest,  loins,  legs,  and  body  gener- 
ally, exercise  is  needed — not  mild  and  gentle,  but  vigorous, 
continuous  exertion,  undertaken  not  spasmodically  but  reg- 
ularly. There  is  no  dispensation  of  Providence  that  will 
or  ever  would  give  a  woman  physical  development  on  any 
other  terms  than  those  by  which  men  have  acquired  their 
development.  But  your  women  had  recourse  to  no  such 
means.  Their  work  had  been  confined  for  countless  ages  to 
a  multiplicity  of  petty  tasks — hand  work  and  finger  work — 
tasks  wearing  to  body  and  mind  in  the  extreme,  but  of  a 
sort  wholly  failing  to  provoke  that  reaction  of  the  vital 
forces  w^hich  builds  up  and  develops  the  parts  exercised. 
From  time  immemorial  the  boy  had  gone  out  to  dig  and 
hunt  with  his  father,  or  contend  for  the  mastery  with  other 
youths  while  the  girl  stayed  at  home  to  spin  and  bake.  Up 
to  fifteen  she  might  share  with  her  brother  a  few  of  his  more 
insipid  sports,  but  wdth  the  beginnings  of  womanhood  came 
the  end  of  all  participation  in  active  physical  outdoor  life. 
What  could   be   expected   save  what   resulted — a  dwarfed 


AT   THE  GYMNASIUM.  149 

and  enfeebled  physique  and  a  semi-invalid  existence  ?  The 
only  wonder  is  that,  after  so  long-  a  period  of  bodily  repres- 
sion and  perversion,  the  feminine  physique  should  have  re- 
sponded, by  so  great  an  improvement  in  so  brief  a  period,  to 
the  free  life  opened  up  to  woman  within  the  last  century." 

"  We  had  very  many  beautiful  women ;  physically  per- 
fect they  seemed  at  least  to  us,"  I  said. 

''  Of  course  you  did,  and  no  doubt  they  were  the  perfect 
types  you  deemed  them,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  They  showed 
you  what  Nature  meant  the  whole  sex  to  be.  But  am  I 
wrong-  in  assuming  that  ill  health  was  a  general  condition 
among  your  women  ?  Certainly  the  records  tell  us  so.  If 
we  may  believe  them,  four  fifths  of  the  practice  of  doctors 
was  among  women,  and  it  seemed  to  do  them  mighty  little 
good  either,  although  perhaps  I  ought  not  to  reflect  on  my 
own  profession.  The  fact  is,  they  could  not  do  anything, 
and  probably  knew  they  couldn't,  so  long  as  the  social  cus- 
toms governing  women  remained  unchanged." 

"  Of  course  you  are  right  enough  as  to  the  general  fact," 
I  replied.  "  Indeed,  a  great  writer  had  given  currency  to  a 
generally  accepted  maxim  w^lien  he  said  that  invalidism 
was  the  normal  condition  of  woman." 

"  1  remember  that  expression.  What  a  confession  it  was 
of  the  abject  failure  of  your  civilization  to  solve  the  most 
fundamental  proposition  of  happiness  for  half  the  race! 
Woman's  invalidism  was  one  of  the  great  tragedies  of  your 
civilization,  and  her  physical  rehabilitation  is  one  of  the 
greatest  single  elements  in  the  total  increment  of  happiness 
which  economic  equality  has  brought  the  human  race. 
Consider  what  is  implied  in  the  transformation  of  the 
woman's  world  of  sighs  and  tears  and  suffering,  as  you 
know  it,  into  the  woman's  world  of  to-day,  with  its  atmos- 
phere of  cheer  and  joy  and  overflowing  vigor  and  vitality  ! " 

"  But,"  said  I,  "  one  thing  is  not  quite  clear  to  me.  With- 
out being  a  physician,  or  knowing  more  of  such  matters 
than  a  young  man  might  be  supposed  to,  I  have  yet  under- 
stood in  a  general  way  that  the  weakness  and  delicacy  of 
women's  physical  condition  had  their  causes  in  certain  natu- 
ral disabilities  of  tlie  sex." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it  was  the  general  notion  in  your  day  that 
11 


150  EQUALITY. 

woman's  physical  constitution  doomed  lier  by  its  necessary 
effect  to  be  sick,  wretched,  and  unhappy,  and  that  at  most 
her  condition  could  not  be  rendered  more  than  tolerable 
in  a  physical  sense.  A  more  blighting  blasphemy  against 
Nature  never  found  expression.  No  natural  function  ought 
to  cause  constant  suffering  or  disease;  and  if  it  does,  the 
rational  inference  is  that  something  is  w^'ong  in  the  cir- 
cumstances. The  Orientals  invented  the  myth  of  Eve  and 
the  apple,  and  the  curse  pronounced  upon  her,  to  explain 
the  sorrovrs  and  infirmities  of  the  sex,  which  were,  in  fact, 
a  consequence,  not  of  God's  wrath,  but  of  man-made  condi- 
tions and  customs.  If  you  once  admit  that  these  sorrows 
and  infirmities  are  inseparable  from  woman's  natural  con- 
stitution, why,  then  there  is  no  logical  explanation  but  to 
accept  that  myth  as  a  matter  of  historj^  There  were,  how- 
ever, plentiful  illustrations  already  in  your  day  of  the  great 
differences  in  the  physical  conditions  of  women  under  dif- 
ferent circumstances  and  different  social  environments  to 
convince  unprejudiced  minds  that  thoroughly  healthful 
conditions  w^hich  should  be  maintained  a  sufficiently  long 
period  would  lead  to  a  physical  rehabilitation  for  woman 
that  would  quite  redeem  from  its  undeserved  obloquy  the 
reputation  of  her  Creator." 

"  Am  I  to  understand  that  maternity  now  is  unattended 
with  risk  or  suffering  ? "' 

"  It  is  not  nowadays  an  experience  which  is  considered 
at  all  critical  either  in  its  actual  occurrence  or  consequences. 
As  to  the  other  supposed  natural  disabilities  which  your 
wise  men  used  to  make  so  much  of  as  excuses  for  keeping 
women  in  economic  subjection,  they  have  ceased  to  involve 
any  physical  disturbance  whatever. 

"  And  the  end  of  this  physical  rebuilding  of  the  feminine 
physique  is  not  yet  in  view.  While  men  still  retain  superi- 
ority in  certain  lines  of  athletics,  we  believe  the  sexes  will 
yet  stand  on  a  plane  of  entire  physical  equality,  with  differ- 
ences only  as  between  individuals." 

"There  is  one  question,"  said  I,  "which  this  wonderful 
physical  rebirth  of  woman  suggests.  You  say  that  she  is 
already  the  physical  equal  of  man,  and  that  your  physiolo- 
gists anticipate  in  a  few  generations  more  her  evolution 


AT  THE  GYMNASIUM.  151 

to  a  complete  equality  with  him.  That  amounts  to  saying-, 
does  it  not,  that  noi'mally  and  potentially  she  always  has 
been  man's  physical  equal  and  tliat  nothing  but  adverse 
circumstances  and  conditions  have  ever  made  her  seem  less 
than  liis  equal  ?  " 

"Certainly." 

"How,  then,  do  you  account  for  the  fact  that  she  has  in 
all  ages  and  countries  since  the  dawn  of  history,  with  per- 
haps a  few  doubtful  and  transient  exceptions,  been  his  phys- 
ical subject  and  thrall  ?  If  she  ever  was  his  equal,  wliy  did 
she  cease  to  become  so,  and  by  a  rule  so  universal  ?  If  her 
inferiority  since  historic  times  may  be  ascribed  to  unfavor- 
able man-made  conditions,  why,  if  she  was  his  equal,  did  she 
permit  those  conditions  to  be  imposed  upon  her  ?  A  philo- 
sophical theory  as  to  how  a  condition  is  to  cease  should  con- 
tain a  rational  suggestion  as  to  how  it  arose," 

"  Very  true  indeed,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  Your  question 
is  practical.  The  theory  of  those  who  hold  that  woman  will 
yet  be  man's  full  equal  in  physical  vigor  necessarily  implies, 
as  you  suggest,  that  she  must  probably  once  have  been  his 
actual  equal,  and  calls  for  an  explanation  of  the  loss  of  that 
equality.  Suppose  man  and  woman  actual  physical  equals 
at  some  point  of  the  past.  There  remains  a  radical  differ- 
ence in  their  relation  as  sexes — namely,  that  man  can  pas- 
sion ally  appropriate  woman  against  her  will  if  he  can  over- 
power her,  while  woman  can  not,  even  if  disposed,  so 
appropriate  man  without  his  full  volition,  however  great 
her  superiority  of  force.  I  have  often  speculated  as  to  the 
reason  of  this  radical  difference,  lying  as  it  does  at  the  root 
of  all  the  sex  tyranny  of  the  past,  now  happily  for  evermore 
replaced  by  mutuality.  It  has  sometimes  seemed  to  me  that 
it  was  Nature's  provision  to  keep  the  race  alive  in  periods  of 
its  evolution  when  life  was  not  worth  living  save  for  a  far- 
off  posterity's  sake.  This  end,  we  may  say,  she  shrewdly 
secured  by  vesting  the  aggressive  and  appropriating  power 
in  the  sex  relation  in  that  sex  which  had  to  bear  the  least  part 
of  the  consequences  resultant  on  its  exercise.  We  may  call 
the  device  a  rather  mean  one  on  Nature's  part,  but  it  was 
well  calculated  to  effect  the  purpose.  But  for  it,  owing  to 
the  natural  and  rational  reluctance  of  the  child-bearing  sex 


152  EQUALITY. 

to  assume  a  burden  so  bitter  and  so  seemingly  profitless,  the 
race  might  easily  have  been  exposed  to  the  risk  of  ceasing 
utterly  during  the  darker  periods  of  its  upward  evolution. 

"  But  let  us  come  back  to  the  specific  question  we  were 
talking  about.  Sujipose  man  and  woman  in  some  for- 
mer age  to  have  been,  on  the  whole,  physically  equal, 
sex  for  sex.  Nevertheless,  there  would  be  many  individual 
variations.  Some  of  each  sex  would  be  stronger  than  others 
of  their  own  sex.  Some  men  would  be  stronger  than  some 
women,  and  as  many  women  be  stronger  than  some  men. 
Very  good ;  we  know  that  well  within  historic  times  the 
savage  method  of  taking  wives  has  been  by  forcible  capture. 
Much  more  may  we  suppose  force  to  have  been  used  wher- 
ever possible  in  more  primitive  periods.  Now,  a  strong 
woman  would  have  no  object  to  gain  in  making  captive  a 
weaker  man  for  any  sexual  purpose,  and  would  not  there- 
fore pursue  him.  Conversely,  however,  strong  men  would 
have  an  object  in  making  captive  and  keeping  as  their 
wives  women  weaker  than  themselves.  In  seeking  to  cap- 
ture wives,  men  would  naturally  avoid  tiie  stronger  women, 
whom  they  might  have  difficulty  in  dominating,  and  X3refer 
as  mates  the  weaker  individuals,  who  would  be  less  able  to 
resist  their  will.  On  the  other  hand,  the  weaker  of  the 
men  would  find  it  relatively  difficult  to  capture  any  mates 
at  all,  and  would  be  consequently  less  likely  to  leave  prog- 
eny.    Do  you  see  the  inference  ? '' 

"  It  is  plain  enough,"  I  replied.  "  You  mean  that  the 
stronger  women  and  the  weaker  men  would  both  be  dis- 
criminated against,  and  that  the  types  which  survived 
would  be  the  stronger  of  the  men  and  the  weaker  of  the 
women." 

"  Precisely  so.  Now,  suppose  a  difference  in  the  physical 
strength  of  the  sexes  to  have  become  well  established 
through  this  process  in  prehistoric  times,  before  the  dawn  of 
civilization,  the  rest  of  the  story  follows  very  simply.  The 
now  confessedly  dominant  sex  would,  of  course,  seek  to  re- 
tain and  increase  its  domination  and  the  now  fully  subor- 
dinated sex  would  in  time  come  to  regard  the  inferiority  to 
which  it  was  born  as  natural,  inevitable,  and  Heaven-or- 
dained.   And  so  it  would  go  on  as  it  did  go  on,  until  the 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE  OF  THE   PROFIT  SYSTEM.   I53 

world's  awakening,  at  the  end  of  the  last  century,  to  the 
necessity  and  possibility  of  a  reorganization  of  human 
society  on  a  moral  basis,  the  first  principle  of  which  must 
be  the  equal  liberty  and  dignity  of  all  human  beings. 
Since  then  women  have  been  reconquering,  as  they  will 
later  fully  reconquer,  their  pristine  physical  equality  with 
men.'" 

"  A  rather  alarming  notion  occurs  to  me,"  said  I.  "  What 
if  woman  should  in  the  end  not  only  equal  but  excel  man 
in  physical  and  mental  powers,  as  he  has  her  in  the  past, 
and  what  if  she  should  take  as  mean  an  advantage  of  that 
superiority  as  he  did  ? " 

The  doctor  laughed.  "  I  think  you  need  not  be  appre- 
hensive that  such  a  superiority,  even  if  attained,  would  be 
abused.  Not  that  women,  as  such,  are  any  more  safely  to 
be  trusted  with  irresi)onsible  power  than  men,  but  for  the 
reason  that  the  race  is  rising  fast  toward  the  plane  already 
in  part  attained  in  which  spiritual  forces  will  fully  dominate 
all  things,  and  questions  of  physical  power  will  cease  to  be 
of  any  importance  in  human  relations.  The  control  and 
leading  of  humanity  go  already  largely,  and  are  plainly 
destined  soon  to  go  wholly,  to  those  who  have  the  largest 
souls — that  is  to  say,  to  those  who  partake  most  of  the  Spirit 
of  the  Greater  Self  ;  and  that  condition  is  one  which  in  itself 
is  the  most  absolute  guarantee  against  the  misuse  of  that 
power  for  selfish  ends,  seeing  that  with  such  misuse  it  would 
cease  to  be  a  power." 

"  The  Greater  Self — what  does  that  mean  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  It  is  one  of  our  names  for  the  soul  and  for  God,"  re- 
plied the  doctor,  "  but  that  is  too  great  a  theme  to  enter  on 
now." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ECONOMIC   SUICIDE   OF   THE   PROFIT  SYSTEM. 

The  morning  following,  Edith  received  a  call  to  report 
at  her  post  of  duty  for  some  special  occasion.  After  she 
had  gone,  I  sought  out  the  doctor  in  the  librarv  and  began 


154  EQUALITY. 

to  ply  him  with  questions,  of  which,  as  usual,  a  store  had 
accumulated  in  my  mind  overnight. 

"If  you  desire  to  continue  your  historical  studies  this 
morning,''  he  said  presently,  "I  am  going  to  propose  a 
change  of  teachers." 

"  I  am  very  well  satisfied  wath  the  one  whom  Providence 
assigned  tome,"  I  answered,  "but  it  is  quite  natural  you 
should  w^ant  a  little  relief  from  such  persistent  cross-ques- 
tioning." 

'*  It  is  not  that  at  all,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  I  am  sure  no 
one  could  conceivably  have  a  more  inspiring  task  than 
mine  has  been,  nor  have  I  any  idea  of  'giving  it  up  as  3^et. 
But  it  occurred  to  me  that  a  little  change  in  the  method 
and  medium  of  instruction  this  morning  might  be  agi'ee- 
able." 

"  Who  is  to  be  the  new^  teacher  ? "  I  asked. 

"  There  are  to  be  a  number  of  them,  and  they  are  not 
teachers  at  all,  but  pupils." 

"  Come,  doctor,"  I  protested,  "don't  you  think  a  man  in 
my  j)osition  has  enough  riddles  to  guess,  without  making 
them  up  for  him  ?  " 

"  It  sounds  like  a  riddle,  doesn't  it  ?  But  it  is  not.  How- 
ever, I  will  hasten  to  explain.  As  one  of  those  citizens  to 
wiiom  for  supposed  public  services  the  people  have  voted 
the  blue  ribbon,  I  have  various  honorary  functions  as  to 
public  matters,  and  especially  educational  affairs.  This 
morning  I  have  notice  of  an  examination  at  ten  o'clock  of 
the  ninth  grade  in  the  Arlington  School.  They  have  been 
studying  the  history  of  the  period  before  the  great  Revolu- 
tion, and  are  going  to  give  their  general  impressions  of  it. 
I  thought  that  perhaps,  by  way  of  a  change,  you  might  be 
interested  in  listening  to  them,  especially  in  view  of  the 
special  topic  they  are  going  to  discuss." 

I  assured  the  doctor  that  no  programme  could  promise 
more  entertainment.  "  What  is  the  topic  they  discuss  ? " 
I  inquired. 

"  The  profit  system  as  a  method  of  economic  suicide  is 
their  theme,"  replied  the  doctor.  "In  our  talks  hitherto  w^e 
have  chiefly  touched  on  the  moral  wrongfulness  of  the  old 
economic  order.     In  the  discussion  w^e  shall  listen  to  this 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE  OF   THE   PROFIT  SYSTEM.   I55 

morning  there  will  be  no  reference  unless  incidentally  to 
moral  considerations.  The  young  people  will  endeavor  to 
show  us  that  there  were  certain  inherent  and  fatal  defects 
in  private  capitalism  as  a  machine  for  producing  ^\ealth 
Avhich,  quite  apart  from  its  ethical  character,  made  its  aboli- 
tion necessary  if  the  race  was  ever  to  get  out  of  the  mire  of 
poverty.'' 

"  That  is  a  very  different  doctrine  from  the  preaching  I 
used  to  hear,"  I  said.  "  The  clergy  and  moralists  in  general 
assured  us  that  there  were  no  social  evils  for  which  moral 
and  religious  medicine  was  not  adequate.  Poverty,  they 
said,  was  in  the  end  the  result  of  human  depravity,  and 
would  disappear  if  everybody  would  only  be  good." 

"  So  we  read,"  said  the  doctor.  "  How  far  the  clergy  and 
the  moralists  preached  this  doctrine  w^ith  a  j^rofessional  mo- 
tive as  calculated  to  enhance  the  importance  of  their  services 
as  moral  instructors,  how  far  they  merely  echoed  it  as  an 
excuse  for  mental  indolence,  and  how  far  they  may  really 
have  been  sincere,  we  can  not  judge  at  this  distance,  but 
certainly  more  injurious  nonsense  was  never  taught.  The 
industrial  and  commercial  system  by  which  the  labor  of  a 
great  population  is  organized  and  directed  constitutes  a  com- 
plex machine.  If  the  machine  is  constructed  unscientific- 
ally, it  will  result  in  loss  and  disaster,  w^ithout  the  slightest 
regard  to  whether  the  managers  are  the  rarest  of  saints  or 
the  worst  of  sinners.  The  world  always  has  had  and  will 
have  need  of  all  the  virtue  and  true  religion  that  men  can 
be  induced  to  practice  ;  but  to  tell  farmers  that  personal 
religion  will  take  the  place  of  a  scientific  agriculture,  or 
the  master  of  an  unseaworthy  ship  that  the  practice  of  good 
morals  will  bring  his  craft  to  shore,  would  be  no  greater 
childishness  than  the  priests  and  moralists  of  your  daj^  com- 
mitted in  assuring  a  w^orld  beggared  by  a  crazy  economic 
system  that  the  secret  of  plenty  was  good  works  and  personal 
piety.  History  gives  a  bitter  chapter  to  these  blind  guides, 
w^ho,  during  the  revolutionary  period,  did  far  more  harm  than 
those  who  openlj^  defended  the  old  order,  because,  while  the 
brutal  frankness  of  the  latter  repelled  good  men,  the  former 
misled  them  and  long  diverted  from  the  guilty  system  the 
indignation  which  otherwise  would  have  sooner  destroyed  it. 


156  EQUALITY. 

"  And  just  here  let  me  say,  Julian,  as  a  most  important 
point  for  you  to  remember  in  the  history  of  the  great  Revo- 
lution, that  it  was  not  until  the  people  had  outgrown  this 
childish  teaching  and  saw  the  causes  of  the  world's  w^ant 
and  misery,  not  primarily  in  human  depravity,  but  in  the 
economic  madness  of  the  profit  system  on  which  private 
capitalism  depanded,  that  the  Revolution  began  to  go  for- 
ward in  earnest." 

Now,  although  the  doctor  had  said  that  the  school  we 
were  to  visit  was  in  Arlington,  which  1  knew^  to  be  some  dis- 
tance out  of  the  city,  and  that  the  examination  would  take 
l^lace  at  ten  o'clock,  he  continued  to  sit  comfortably  in  his 
chair,  though  the  time  was  five  minutes  of  ten. 

"  Is  this  Arlington  the  same  tow^n  that  was  a  suburb  of 
the  city  in  my  time  ?  "  I  presently  ventured  to  inquire. 

"  Certainly." 

"  It  was  then  ten  or  twelve  miles  from  the  city,"  I  said. 

"  It  has  not  been  moved,  I  assure  you,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  Then  if  not,  and  if  the  examination  is  to  begin  in  five 
minutes,  are  we  not  likely  to  be  late  ? "  I  mildly  observed. 

"Oh,  no,"  replied  the  doctor,  "there  are  three  or  four 
minutes  left  yet." 

"Doctor,"  said  I,  "I  have  been  introduced  within  the 
last  few  days  to  many  new  and  speedy  modes  of  locomotion, 
but  I  can't  see  how  you  are  going  to  get  me  to  Arlington 
from  here  in  time  for  the  examination  tliat  begins  three 
minutes  hence,  unless  you  reduce  me  to  an  electrified  solu- 
tion, send  me  by  ware,  and  have  me  precipitated  back  to  my 
shape  at  tlie  other  end  of  the  line ;  and  even  in  that  case  I 
should  suppose  we  had  no  time  to  waste." 

"  We  shouldn't  have,  certainly,  if  we  were  intending  to 
go  to  Arlington  even  by  that  process.  It  did  not  occur  to 
me  that  you  would  care  to  go,  or  w^e  might  just  as  well 
have  started  earlier.     It  is  too  bad  ! " 

"I  did  not  care  about  visiting  Arlington,"  I  replied,  ''but 
I  assumed  that  it  w^ould  be  rather  necessary  to  do  so  if  I 
were  to  attend  an  examination  at  that  place.  I  see  my  mis- 
take. I  ought  to  have  learned  by  this  time  not  to  take  for 
granted  that  any  of  what  we  used  to  consider  the  laws  of 
Nature  are  still  in  force." 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE  OF  THE  PROFIT  SYSTEM.  157 

"The  laws  of  Nature  are  all  right,"  laughed  the  doctor. 
"  But  is  it  possible  that  Edith  has  not  shown  you  the  elec- 
troscope ? " 

"  What  is  that  ?"  I  asked. 

"  It  does  for  vision  what  the  telephone  does  for  hearing," 
replied  the  doctor,  and,  leading  the  way  to  the  music  room, 
he  showed  me  the  ap])aratus. 

"  It  is  ten  o'clock,"  he  said,  "  and  we  have  no  time  for  ex- 
planations now.  Take  this  chair  and  adjust  the  instrument 
as  you  see  me  do.     Now  ! " 

Instantly,  without  warning,  or  the  faintest  preparation 
for  what  was  coming,  I  found  myself  looking  into  the  in- 
terior of  a  large  room.  Some  twenty  boys  and  girls,  thirteen 
to  fourteen  years  of  age,  occupied  a  double  row  of  chairs 
ari-anged  in  the  form  of  a  semicircle  about  a  desk  at  which 
a  young  man  was  seated  with  his  back  to  us.  The  rows  of 
students  were  facing  us,  apparently  not  twenty  feet  away. 
The  rustling  of  their  garments  and  every  change  of  ex- 
pression in  their  mobile  faces  were  as  distinct  to  my  eyes 
and  ears  as  if  we  had  been  directly  behind  the  teacher,  as 
indeed  we  seemed  to  be.  At  the  moment  the  scene  had 
flashed  upon  me  I  was  in  the  act  of  making  some  remark 
to  the  doctor.  As  I  checked  myself,  he  laughed.  "You 
need  not  be  afraid  of  interrupting  them,"  he  said.  "  They 
don't  see  or  hear  us,  though  we  both  see  and  hear  them  so 
w^ell.     They  are  a  dozen  miles  away." 

"  Good  heavens  I  "  I  w^hispered— for,  in  spite  of  his  assur- 
ance, I  could  not  realize  that  they  did  not  hear  me—"  are  we 
here  or  there  ? " 

"We  are  here  certainly,"  replied  the  doctor,  "but  our 
eyes  and  ears  are  there.  This  is  the  electroscope  and  tele- 
phone combined.  We  could  have  heard  the  examination  just 
as  well  without  the  electroscope,  but  I  thought  you  would 
be  better  entertained  if  you  could  both  see  and  hear.  Fine- 
looking  young  people,  are  they  not  ?  We  shall  see  now 
whether  they  are  as  intelligent  as  they  are  handsome." 

HOW  PROFITS  CUT  DOWN   CONSUMPTION. 

"  Our  subject  this  morning,"  said  the  teacher  briskly,  "  is 
'The  Economic  Suicide  of  Production  for  Profit.'  or  'The 


X58  EQUALITY. 

Hopelessness  of  the  Economic  Outlook  of  the  Eace  under 
Private  Capitalism.'— Now,  Frank,  will  you  tell  us  exactly 
what  this  proposition  means  '^  " 

At  these  words  one  of  the  boys  of  the  class  rose  to  his 
feet. 

"  It  means,''  he  said,  "  that  communities  which  depended 
—as  they  had  to  depend,  so  long  as  private  capitalism  lasted— 
upon  the  motive  of  profit  making  for  the  production  of  the 
things  by  which  they  lived,  must  always  suffer  poverty,  be- 
cause the  profit  system,  by  its  necessary  nature,  operated  to 
stop  limit  and  cripple  production  at  the  point  where  it  began 
to  be  efficient." 

"  By  what  is  the  possible  production  of  wealth  limited  ? " 

"  By  its  consumption." 

"  May  not  production  fall  short  of  possible  consumption  ? 
May  not  the  demand  for  consumption  exceed  the  resources 
of  production  ? '' 

"  Theoretically  it  may,  but  not  practically— that  is,  speak- 
ing of  demand  as  limited  to  rational  desires,  and  not  ex- 
tending to  merely  fanciful  objects.  Since  the  division  of 
labor  was  introduced,  and  especially  since  the  great  inven- 
tions multiplied  indefinitely  the  powers  of  man,  production 
has  been  practically  limited  only  by  the  demand  created  by 
consumption." 

"Was  this  so  before  the  great  Revolution  ?  " 

"Certainly.  It  was  a  truism  among  economists  that 
either  England,  Germany,  or  the  United  States  alone  could 
easily  have  supplied  the  world's  whole  consumption  of 
manufactured  goods.  No  country  began  to  produce  up  to 
its  capacity  in  any  line." 

"Why  not?" 

"On  account  of  the  necessary  law  of  the  profit  system, 
by  which  it  operated  to  limit  iDroduction." 

"  In  what  way  did  this  law  operate  ? " 

"  By  creating  a  gap  between  the  producing  and  consum- 
ing power  of  the  community,  the  result  of  which  was  that 
the  people  were  not  able  to  consume  as  much  as  they  could 
produce." 

"Please  tell  us  just  how  the  profit  system  led  to  this 
result." 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE   OF  THE  PROFIT  SYSTEM.   I59 

"  There  being*  under  the  old  order  of  things,"  replied  the 
boy  Frank,  "  no  collective  agency  to  undertake  the  organi- 
zation of  labor  and  exchange,  that  function  naturally  fell 
into  the  hands  of  enterprising  individuals  who,  because  the 
undertaking  called  for  much  capital,  had  to  be  capitalists. 
They  were  of  two  general  classes — the  capitalist  who  organ- 
ized labor  for  production  ;  and  the  traders,  the  middlemen, 
and  store kee^Ders,  who  organized  distribution,  and  having 
collected  all  the  varieties  of  products  in  the  market,  sold 
them  again  to  the  general  public  for  consumption.  The 
great  mass  of  the  people — nine,  perhaps,  out  of  ten — were 
wage-earners  who  sold  their  labor  to  the  producing  capital- 
ists ;  or  small  first-hand  producers,  who  sold  their  personal 
product  to  the  middlemen.  The  farmers  Avere  of  the  latter 
class.  With  the  money  the  wage-earners  and  farmers  I'c- 
ceived  in  Avages,  or  as  the  price  of  their  produce,  they  after- 
ward went  into  the  market,  Avhere  the  products  of  all  sorts 
were  assembled,  and  bought  back  as  much  as  they  could  for 
consumption.  Now,  of  course,  the  capitalists,  whether  en- 
gaged in  organizing  joroduction  or  distribution,  had  to  have 
some  inducement  for  risking  their  capital  and  spending 
their  time  in  this  work.     That  inducement  was  profit." 

"  Tell  us  how  the  profits  w^ere  collected." 

"  The  manufacturing  or  employing  capitalists  paid  the 
people  who  worked  for  them,  and  the  merchants  paid  the 
farmers  for  their  products  in  tokens  called  money,  w^hich 
were  good  to  buy  back  the  blended  products  of  all  in  the 
market.  But  the  capitalists  gave  neither  the  wage-earner 
nor  the  farmer  enough  of  these  money  tokens  to  buy  back 
the  equivalent  of  the  product  of  his  labor.  The  difference 
which  the  capitalists  kept  back  for  themselves  was  their 
profit.  It  was  collected  by  putting  a  higher  price  on  the 
products  when  sold  in  the  stores  than  the  cost  of  the  product 
had  been  to  the  capitalists." 

*'  Give  us  an  example." 

"We  Avill  take  then,  first,  the  manufacturing  capitalist, 
who  employed  labor.  Suppose  he  manufactured  shoes.  Sup- 
pose for  each  pair  of  shoes  he  paid  ten  cents  to  the  tanner 
for  leather,  twenty  cents  for  the  labor  of  putting  the  shoe 
together,  and  ten  cents  for  all  other  labor  in  any  way  enter- 


160  EQUALITY. 

ing  into  the  making  of  the  shoe,  so  that  the  pair  cost  him  in 
actual  outlay  forty  cents.  He  sold  the  shoes  to  a  middle- 
man for,  say,  seventy-five  cents.  The  middleman  sold  them 
to  the  retailer  for  a  dollar,  and  the  retailer  sold  them  over 
his  counter  to  the  consumer  for  a  dollar  and  a  half.  Take 
next  the  case  of  the  farmer,  who  sold  not  merelj^  his  labor 
like  the  wage-earner,  but  his  labor  blended  with  his  ma- 
terial. Suppose  he  sold  his  wheat  to  the  grain  merchant  for 
forty  cents  a  bushel.  The  grain  merchant,  in  selling  it  to 
the  flouring  mill,  would  ask,  say,  sixty  cents  a  bushel.  The 
flouring  mill  would  sell  it  to  the  wholesale  flour  merchant 
for  a  price  over  and  above  the  labor  cost  of  milling  at  a  fig- 
ure which  would  include  a  handsome  profit  for  him.  The 
wholesale  flour  merchant  would  add  another  profit  in  sell- 
ing to  the  retail  grocer,  and  the  last  yet  another  in  selling 
to  the  consumer.  So  that  finally  the  equivalent  of  the 
bushel  of  wheat  in  finished  flour  as  bought  back  by  the 
original  farmer  for  consumption  would  cost  him,  on  account 
of  profit  charges  alone,  over  and  above  the  actual  labor  cost 
of  intermediate  processes,  perhaps  twice  what  he  received 
for  it  from  the  gi'ain  merchant." 

"Very  well,"  said  the  teacher.  ''Now  for  the  practical 
effect  of  this  system." 

"  The  practical  effect,"  replied  the  boy,  "was  necessarily 
to  create  a  gap  between  the  producing  and  consuming  power 
of  those  engaged  in  the  production  of  the  things  upon  which 
profits  were  charged.  Their  ability  to  consume  would  be 
measured  by  the  value  of  the  money  tokens  they  received 
for  x^roduciug  the  goods,  which  by  the  statement  was  less 
than  the  value  put  upon  those  goods  in  the  stores.  That 
difference  would  represent  a  gap  between  what  they  could 
produce  and  what  they  could  consume." 

MARGARET  TELLS  ABOUT  THE  DEADLY  GAP. 

"  Margaret,"  said  the  teacher,  "  you  may  now  take  up  the 
subject  where  Frank  leaves  it,  and  tell  us  what  would  be 
the  effect  upon  the  economic  system  of  a  peoi^le  of  such  a 
gap  between  its  consuming  and  producing  i^ower  as  Frank 
shows  us  was  caused  by  profit  taking." 

"  The  effect,"  said  the  girl  who  answered  to  the  name  of 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE  OF  THE  PROFIT  SYSTEM.  161 

Maro-aret,  "  would  depend  on  two  factors  :  first,  on  how  nu- 
merous a  bodv  were  the  wage-earners  and  first  producers, 
on  whose  products  the  profits  were  charged  ;  and,  second,  how 
large  was  the  rate  of  profit  charged,  and  the  consequent  dis- 
crepancy between  the  producing  and  consuming  power  of 
each  individual  of  the  working  body.  If  the  producers  on 
whose  product  a  profit  was  charged  were  but  a  handful  of 
the  people,  the  total  effect  of  their  inability  to  buy  back  and 
consume  more  than  a  part  of  their  product  would  create 
but  a  slight  gap  between  the  producing  and  consuming 
power  of  Ihe  community  as  a  whole.  If,  on  the  other  hand, 
they  constituted  a  large  proportion  of  the  whole  population, 
the  gap  would  be  correspondingly  great,  and  the  reactive 
effect  to  check  production  would  be  disastrous  in  propor- 
tion." 

"And  what  was  the  actual  proportion  of  the  total  popu- 
lation made  up  by  the  wage-earners  and  original  producers, 
who  by  the  profit  system  w^ere  prevented  from  consuming 
as  much  as  they  produced  ? " 

"  It  constituted,  as  Frank  has  said,  at  least  nine  tenths 
of  the  whole  people,  probably  more.  The  profit  takers, 
whether  they  were  organizers  of  production  or  of  distribu- 
tion, were  a  group  numerically  insignificant,  while  those  on 
whose  product  the  profits  were  charged  constituted  the  bulk 
of  the  community." 

"  Very  well.  We  will  now  consider  the  other  factor  on 
which  the  size  of  the  gap  betw^een  the  producing  and  con- 
suming power  of  the  community  created  by  the  profit  system 
was  dependent— namely,  the  rate  of  profits  charged.  Tell 
us,  then,  what  was  the  rule  followed  by  the  capitalists  in 
charging  profits.  No  doubt,  as  rational  men  who  realized 
the  effect  of  high  profits  to  prevent  consumption,  they  made 
a  point  of  making  their  profits  as  low  as  possible." 

"On  the  contrary,  the  capitalists  made  their  profits  as 
high  as  possible.  Their  maxim  was,  '  Tax  the  traffic  all  it 
will  bear.' " 

"  Do  you  mean  that  instead  of  trying  to  minimize  the 
effect  of  profit  charging  to  diminish  consumption,  they  de- 
liberately sought  to  magnify  it  to  the  greatest  possible  de- 
gree ? " 


1G2  EQUALITY. 

"  I  mean  tliat  precisely,"  replied  Margaret.  '*  The  g-olden 
rule  of  tlie  profit  system,  the  great  motto  of  the  capi- 
talists, was,  'Buy  in  the  Cheapest  Market,  and  sell  in  the 
Dearest." 

"  What  did  that  mean  ?  " 

"  It  meant  that  the  capitalist  ought  to  pay  the  least  pos- 
sible to  those  who  worked  for  him  or  sold  him  their  produce, 
and  on  the  other  hand  should  charge  the  highest  possible 
price  for  their  product  when  he  offered  it  for  sale  to  the  gen- 
eral public  in  the  market." 

"That  general  public,"  observed  the  teacher,  "being 
chiefly  composed  of  the  workers  to  whom  he  and  his  fellow- 
capitalists  had  just  been  paying  as  nearly  nothing  as  j^ossible 
for  creating  the  product  w^hich  they  were  now  expected  to 
buy  back  at  the  highest  possible  price." 

"  Certainly." 

"  Well,  let  us  try  to  realize  the  full  economic  wisdom  of 
this  rule  as  applied  to  the  business  of  a  nation.  It  means, 
doesn't  it,  Get  something  for  nothing,  or  as  near  nothing  as 
you  can?  Well,  then,  if  you  can  get  it  for  absolutely  noth- 
ing, you  are  carrying  out  the  maxim  to  perfection.  For* 
example,  if  a  manufacturer  could  hypnotize  his  v>'orkmen  so 
as  to  get  them  to  work  for  him  for  no  wages  at  all,  he  would 
be  realizing  the  full  meaning  of  the  maxim,  would  he 
not  ? " 

"  Certainly  :  a  manufacturer  who  could  do  that,  and  then 
put  the  product  of  his  unpaid  workmen  on  the  market  at  the 
usual  price,  would  have  become  rich  in  a  very  short  time." 

"  And  the  same  would  be  true,  I  suppose,  of  a  grain  mer- 
chant who  was  able  to  take  such  advantage  of  the  farmers 
as  to  obtain  their  grain  for  nothing,  afterward  selling  it  at 
the  top  price  ? " 

"Certainl}^     He  would  become  a  millionaire  at  once." 

"  Well,  now,  suppose  the  secret  of  this  hypnotizing  process 
should  get  abroad  among  the  capitalists  engaged  in  produc- 
tion and  exchange,  and  should  be  generally  applied  by  them 
so  that  all  of  them  were  able  to  get  workmen  without  wages, 
and  buy  produce  without  pajang  anything  for  it,  then  doubt- 
less all  the  capitalists  at  once  would  become  fabulously 
rich." 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE  OF  THE  PROFIT  SYSTEM.   163 

"  Not  at  all." 

"  Dear  me  !  why  not  ? " 

"  Because  if  the  whole  body  of  wage-earners  failed  to  re- 
ceive any  wages  for  tiieir  work,  and  the  farmers  received 
nothing  for  their  produce,  there  w^ould  be  nobody  to  buy 
anything,  and  the  market  would  collaps6  entirely.  There 
would  be  no  demand  for  any  goods  except  what  little  the 
capitalists  themselves  and  their  friends  could  consume.  The 
Avorking  people  w^ould  then  presently  starve,  and  the  capi- 
talists be  left  to  do  their  own  work."' 

"  Then  it  appears  that  what  would  be  good  for  the  par- 
ticular capitalist,  if  he  alone  did  it,  would  be  ruinous  to  him 
and  everybody  else  if  all  the  capitalists  did  it.  Why  was 
this  ? " 

"Because  the  particular  capitalist,  in  expecting  to  get 
rich  by  underpaying  his  employees,  w^ould  calculate  on  sell- 
ing his  produce,  not  to  the  particular  group  of  workmen  he 
had  cheated,  but  to  the  community  at  large,  consisting  of 
the  employees  of  other  capitalists  not  so  successful  in  cheat- 
ing their  workmen,  who  therefore  would  have  something  to 
buy  with.  The  success  of  his  trick  depended  on  the  pre- 
sumption that  his  fellows-capitalists  would  not  succeed  in 
practicing  the  same  trick.  If  that  presumption  failed,  and 
all  the  capitalists  succeeded  at  once  in  dealing  with  their 
employees,  as  all  were  trying  to  do,  the  result  would  be  to 
stop  the  whole  industrial  system  outright." 

"  It  ax^pears,  then,  that  in  the  profit  system  we  have  an 
economic  method,  of  which  the  working  rule  only  needed 
to  be  applied  thoroughly  enough  in  order  to  bring  the  sys- 
tem to  a  complete  standstill  and  that  all  which  kept  the 
system  going  was  the  difficulty  found  in  fully  carrying  out 
the  working  rule. 

"  That  was  precisely  so,"  replied  the  girl ;  "  the  individual 
capitalist  grew  rich  fastest  who  succeeded  best  in  beggaring 
those  whose  labor  or  produce  he  bought ;  but  obviously  it 
was  only  necessary  for  enough  capitalists  to  succeed  in  so 
doing  in  order  to  involve  capitalists  and  people  alike  in 
general  ruin.  To  make  the  sharpest  ]30ssible  bargain  with 
the  employer  or  producer,  to  give  him  the  least  possible  re- 
turn for  his  labor  or  product,  was  the  ideal  every  capitalist 


16-i  EQUALITY. 

must  constantly  keep  before  liim,  and  yet  it  was  matliemat- 
ically  certain  that  every  such  sharp  bargain  tended  to  under- 
mine the  whole  business  fabric,  and  that  it  was  only  neces- 
sary that  enough  capitalists  should  succeed  in  making 
enough  such  sharp  bargains  to  topple  the  fabric  over." 

"  One  question  more.  The  bad  effects  of  a  bad  system 
are  always  aggravated  by  the  willfulness  of  men  who  take 
advantage  of  it,  and  so,  no  doubt,  the  profit  system  was 
made  by  selfish  men  to  work  worse  than  it  might  have  done. 
Now,  suppose  the  capitalists  had  all  been  fair-minded  men 
and  not  extortioners,  and  had  made  their  charges  for  their 
services  as  small  as  was  consistent  with  reasonable  gains 
and  self -protection,  would  that  course  have  involved  such 
a  reduction  of  profit  charges  as  would  have  greatly  helped 
the  people  to  consume  their  products  and  thus  to  promote 
production  ?  " 

"  It  would  not,"  replied  the  girl.  "  The  antagonism  of 
the  profit  system  to  effective  wealth  production  arose  from 
causes  inherent  in  and  inseparable  from  private  capitalism  ; 
and  so  long  as  jDrivate  capitalism  was  retained,  those  causes 
must  have  made  the  profit  sj^stem  inconsistent  with  anj^ 
economic  improvement  in  the  condition  of  the  people,  even 
if  the  capitalists  had  been  angels.  The  root  of  the  evil  was 
not  moral,  but  strictly  economic." 

"  But  would  not  the  rate  of  profits  have  been  much  re- 
duced in  the  case  supposed  ? " 

''In  some  instances  temporarily  no  doubt,  but  not  gener- 
ally, and  in  no  case  permanently.  It  is  doubtful  if  profits, 
on  the  whole,  were  higher  than  they  had  to  be  to  encourage 
capitalists  to  undertake  production  and  trade." 

"  Tell  us  why  the  profits  had  to  be  so  large  for  this  pur- 
pose." 

"  Legitimate  profits  under  private  capitalism,"  replied  the 
girl  Margaret — "  that  is,  such  profits  as  men  going  into  pro- 
duction or  trade  must  in  self -protection  calculate  upon,  how- 
ever well  disposed  toward  the  public — consisted  of  three  ele- 
ments, all  growing  out  of  conditions  inseparable  from  private 
caijitalism,  none  of  which  longer  exist.  First,  the  capitalist 
must  calculate  on  at  least  as  large  a  return  on  the  cai)ital  he 
was  to  put  into  the  venture  as  he  could  obtain  by  lending  it 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE   OF  THE  PROFIT  SYSTEM.   165 

on  good  security — that  is  to  say,  the  ruling  rate  of  interest.  If 
he  were  not  sure  of  that,  he  would  prefer  to  lend  his  capital. 
But  that  was  not  enough.  In  going  into  business  he  risked 
the  entire  loss  of  his  capital,  as  he  would  not  if  it  were  lent 
on  good  security.  Therefore,  in  addition  to  the  ruling  rate 
of  interest  on  capital,  his  profits  must  cover  the  cost  of 
insurance  on  the  capital  risked — that  is,  there  must  be  a 
prospect  of  gains  large  enough  in  case  the  venture  suc- 
ceeded to  cover  the  risk  of  loss  of  capital  in  case  of  failure. 
If  the  chances  of  failure,  for  instance,  were  even,  he  must 
calculate  on  more  than  a  hundred  per  cent  profit  in  case  of 
success.  In  point  of  fact,  the  chances  of  failure  in  business 
and  loss  of  capital  in  those  days  were  often  far  more  than 
even.  Business  was  indeed  little  more  than  a  speculative 
risk,  a  lottery  in  which  the  blanks  gi^eatly  outnumbered  the 
prizes.  The  prizes  to  temjDt  investment  must  therefore  be 
large.  Moreover,  if  a  capitalist  were  personally  to  take 
charge  of  the  business  in  which  he  invested  his  capital,  he 
would  reasonably  have  expected  adequate  wages  of  superin- 
tendence— compensation,  in  other  words,  for  his  skill  and 
judgment  in  navigating  the  venture  through  the  stormy 
waters  of  the  business  sea,  compared  with  which,  as  it  was 
in  that  day,  the  North  Atlantic  in  midwinter  is  a  mill  pond. 
For  this  service  he  would  be  considered  justified  in  making 
a  large  addition  to  the  margin  of  profit  charged." 

"  Then  you  conclude,  Margaret,  that,  even  if  disposed  to  be 
fair  toward  the  community,  a  capitalist  of  those  days  vrould 
not  have  been  able  safely  to  reduce  his  rate  of  profits  sufii- 
ciently  to  bring  the  people  much  nearer  the  point  of  being 
able  to  consume  their  products  than  they  were." 

"  Precisely  so.  The  root  of  the  evil  lay  in  the  tremendous 
difficulties,  complexities,  mistakes,  risks,  and  wastes  with 
which  private  capitalism  necessarily  involved  the  processes 
of  production  and  distribution,  which  under  public  capi- 
talism have  become  so  entirely  simple,  expeditious,  and 
certain." 

"  Then  it  seems  it  is  not  necessary  to  consider  our  cai^i- 
talist  ancestors  moral  monsters  in  order  to  account  for  the 
tragical  outcome  of  their  economic  methods." 

"  By  no  means.  The  capitalists  were  no  doubt  good  and 
12 


166  EQUALITY. 

bad,  like  otlier  people,  but  probably  stood  up  as  well  as  any 
people  could  against  the  depraving  influences  of  a  system 
which  in  fifty  years  would  have  turned  heaven  itself  into 
hsll." 

MARION  EXPLAINS   OVER-PRODUCTION. 

"That  will  do,  Margaret,'' said  the  teacher.  "We  will 
next  ask  you,  Marion,  to  assist  us  in  further  elucidating 
the  subject.  If  the  profit  system  worked  according  to  the 
description  we  have  listened  to,  we  shall  be  prepared  to 
learn  that  the  economic  situation  was  marked  by  the  exist- 
ence of  large  stores  of  consumable  goods  in  the  hands  of 
the  profit  takers  which  they  would  be  glad  to  sell,  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  by  a  great  i3opulation  composed  of  the  origi- 
nal producers  of  the  goods,  who  were  in  sharp  need  of  the 
goods  but  unable  to  purchase  them.  How  does  this  theory 
agree  with  the  facts  stated  in  the  histories  ? " 

"So  well,"  replied  Marion,  "  that  one  might  almost  think 
you  had  been  reading  them."  At  which  the  class  smiled, 
and  so  did  I. 

"  Describe,  without  unnecessary  infusion  of  humor — for 
the  subject  was  not  humorous  to  our  ancestors — the  condi- 
tion of  things  to  which  you  refer.  Did  our  great-grand- 
fathers recognize  in  this  excess  of  goods  over  buyers  a  cause 
of  economic  disturbance  ?  " 

"  They  recognized  it  as  the  great  and  constant  cause  of 
such  disturbance.  The  perpetual  burden  of  their  complaints 
was  dull  times,  stagnant  trade,  glut  of  products.  Occasion- 
ally they  had  brief  periods  of  what  they  called  good  times, 
resulting  from  a  little  brisker  buying,  but  in  the  best  of 
what  they  called  good  times  the  condition  of  the  mass  of 
the  people  was  what  we  should  call  abjectly  wretched." 

"  What  was  the  term  by  which  they  most  commonly  de- 
scribed the  presence  in  the  market  of  more  products  than 
could  be  sold  ? " 

"  Overproduction." 

"  Was  it  meant  by  this  expression  that  there  had  been 
actually  more  food,  clothing,  and  other  good  things  pro- 
duced than  the  people  could  use  ? " 

"  Not  at  ail.     The  mass  of  the  peoxDle  were  in  great  need 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE  OF  THE  PROFIT  SYSTEM.  1G7 

always,  and  in  more  bitter  need  than  ever  precisely  at  the 
times  when  the  business  machine  was  clogged  by  what  they 
called  overproduction.  The  people,  if  thej'-  could  have  ob- 
tained access  to  the  overproduced  goods,  would  at  any  time 
have  consumed  them  in  a  moment  and  loudly  called  for  more. 
The  trouble  was,  as  has  been  said,  that  the  profits  charged 
by  the  capitalist  manufacturers  and  traders  had  put  them 
out  of  the  power  of  the  original  producers  to  buy  back  with 
the  price  they  had  received  for  their  labor  or  products." 

"  To  what  have  our  liistorians  been  wont  to  compare  the 
condition  of  the  community  under  the  profit  system  ? " 

"  To  that  of  a  victim  of  the  disease  of  chronic  dyspepsia 
so  prevalent  among  our  ancestors." 

''  Please  develop  the  parallel." 

"  In  dyspei^sia  the  patient  suffered  from  inability  to  as- 
similate food.  With  abundance  of  dainties  at  hand  he 
wasted  away  from  the  lack  of  power  to  absorb  nutriment. 
Although  unable  to  eat  enough  to  support  life,  he  was  con- 
stantly suffering  the  pangs  of  indigestion,  and  while  actu- 
ally starving  for  want  of  nourishment,  was  tormented  by 
the  sensation  of  an  overloaded  stomach.  Now,  the  economic 
condition  of  a  community  under  the  profit  system  afi^orded 
a  striking  analogy  to  the  plight  of  such  a  dyspeptic.  The 
masses  of  the  people  were  always  in  bitter  need  of  all  things, 
and  were  abundantly  able  by  their  industry  to  provide  for 
all  their  needs,  but  the  profit  system  would  not  permit  them 
to  consume  even  what  they  produced,  much  less  produce 
what  they  could.  No  sooner  did  they  take  the  first  edge  off 
of  their  appetite  than  the  commercial  system  was  seized 
with  the  pangs  of  acute  indigestion  and  all  the  symptoms  of 
an  overloaded  system,  which  nothing  but  a  course  of  starva- 
tion would  relieve,  after  which  the  experience  would  be  re- 
peated with  the  same  result,  and  so  on  indefinitely." 

"  Can  you  explain  why  such  an  extraordinary  misnomer 
as  overproduction  should  be  applied  to  a  situation  that 
would  better  be  described  as  famine  ;  why  a  condition  should 
be  said  to  result  from  glut  when  it  was  obviously  the  con- 
sequence of  enforced  abstinence  ?  Surely,  the  mistake  was 
equivalent  to  diagnosing  a  case  of  starvation  as  one  of 
gluttony." 


168  EQUALITY. 

"It  was  because  the  economists  and  the  learned  classes, 
who  alone  had  a  voice,  regarded  the  economic  question  en- 
tirely from  the  side  of  the  capitalists  and  ignored  the  inter- 
est of  the  people.  From  the  point  of  view  of  the  capitalist 
it  was  a  case  of  overproduction  when  he  had  charged  profits 
on  products  which  took  them  beyond  the  power  of  the  peo- 
ple to  buy,  and  so  the  economist  ^vriting  in  his  interest  called 
it.  From  the  point  of  view  of  the  capitalist,  and  conse- 
quently of  the  economist,  the  only  question  was  the  condi- 
tion of  the  market,  not  of  the  people.  They  did  not  concern 
themselves  whether  the  people  were  famished  or  glutted; 
the  only  question  was  the  condition  of  the  market.  Their 
maxim  that  demand  governed  supply,  and  supply  would 
always  meet  demand,  referred  in  no  way  to  the  demand 
representing  human  need,  but  wholly  to  an  artificial 
thing  called  the  market,  itself  the  product  of  the  profit 
system." 

"  What  was  the  market  ? '' 

"  The  market  was  the  number  of  those  who  had  money 
to  buy  with.  Those  who  had  no  money  were  non-existent 
so  far  as  the  market  was  concerned,  and  in  proportion  as 
peoi^le  had  little  money  they  were  a  small  part  of  the 
market.  The  needs  of  the  market  were  the  needs  of 
those  who  had  the  money  to  supply  their  needs  with.  The 
rest,  who  had  needs  in  plenty  but  no  money,  were  not 
counted,  though  they  were  as  a  hundred  to  one  of  the 
moneyed.  The  market  was  supplied  when  those  who  could 
buy  had  enough,  though  the  most  of  the  people  had  little 
and  many  had  nothing.  The  market  was  glutted  when  the 
well-to-do  were  satisfied,  though  starving  and  naked  mobs 
might  riot  in  the  streets." 

''  Would  such  a  thing  be  possible  nowadays  as  full  store- 
houses and  a  hungry  and  naked  people  existing  at  the 
same  time  ? " 

"Of  course  not.  Until  every  one  was  satisfied  there 
could  be  no  such  thing  as  overproduct  now.  Our  system  is 
so  arranged  that  there  can  be  too  little  nowhere  so  long  as 
there  is  too  much  anywhere.  But  the  old  system  had  no 
circulation  of  the  blood." 

"  What  name  did  our  ancestors  give  to  the  various  eco- 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE   OF  THE   PROFIT   SYSTEM.   169 

nomic   disturbances    which   they  ascribed  to    overproduc- 
tion ? " 

"They  called  them  commercial  crises.  That  is  to  say, 
there  was  a  chronic  state  of  glut  which  might  be  called  a 
chronic  crisis,  but  every  now  and  then  the  arrears  resulting 
from  the  constant  discrepancy  between  consumption  and 
production  accumulated  to  such  a  degree  as  to  nearly  block 
business.  When  this  happened  they  called  it,  in  distinction 
from  the  chronic  glut,  a  crisis  or  panic,  on  account  of  the 
blind  terror  which  it  caused." 

'*  To  what  cause  did  they  ascribe  the  crises  ? " 

''To  almost  everj^thing  besides  the  perfectly  plain  rea-' 
son.  An  extensive  literature  seems  to  have  been  devoted 
to  the  subject.  There  are  shelves  of  it  up  at  the  museum 
which  I  have  been  trying  to  go  through,  or  at  least  to 
skim  over,  in  connection  with  this  study.  If  the  books 
were  not  so  dull  in  style  they  would  be  very  amusing, 
just  oh  account  of  the  extraordinary  ingenuity  the  writers 
display  in  avoiding  the  natural  and  obvious  explanation 
of  the  facts  they  discuss.  They  even  go  into  astron- 
omy." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? " 

''  I  suppose  the  class  will  think  I  am  romancing,  but  it  is 
a  fact  that  one  of  the  most  famous  of  the  theories  by  which 
our  ancestors  accounted  for  the  periodical  breakdowns  of 
business  resulting  from  the  profit  system  was  the  so-called 
'  sun-spot  theorj^'  During  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century  it  so  happened  that  there  were  severe  crises  at 
periods  about  ten  or  eleven  years  apart.  Now,  it  happened 
that  sun  spots  were  at  a  maximum  about  every  ten  years,  and 
a  certain  eminent  English  economist  concluded  that  these 
sun  spots  caused  the  panics.  Later  on  it  seems  this  theory 
was  found  unsatisfactory,  and  gave  place  to  the  lack-of -con- 
fidence explanation." 

"  And  what  was  that  ?  " 

"  I  could  not  exactly  make  out,  but  it  seemed  reasonable 
to  suppose  that  there  must  have  developed  a  considerable 
lack  of  confidence  in  an  economic  system  w^hich  turned  out 
such  results." 

"  Marion,  I  fear  you  do  not  bring  a  spirit  of  sympathy  to 


170  EQUALITY. 

the  study  of  the  ways  of  our  forefathers,  and  without  sym- 
pathy we  can  not  understand  others." 

"  I  am  afraid  they  are  a  little  too  other  for  me  to  under- 
stand." 

The  class  tittered,  and  Marion  was  allowed  to  take  her 
seat. 

JOHN   TELLS   ABOUT   COMPETITION. 

"  Now,  John,"  said  the  teacher,  ''  we  will  ask  you  a  few 
questions.  We  have  seen  by  what  process  a  chronic  g-lut  of 
goods  in  the  market  resulted  from  the  operation  of  the  profit 
system  to  put  products  out  of  reach  of  the  purchasing-  power 
of  the  people  at  large.  Now,  what  notable  characteristic  and 
main  feature  of  the  business  system  of  our  forefathers  re- 
sulted from  the  glut  thus  produced  ? " 

"  I  suppose  you  refer  to  competition  ? "  said  the  boy. 

"Yes.  What  was  competition  and  what  caused  it,  re- 
ferring especially  to  the  competition  between  capitalists  ? " 

"  It  resulted,  as  you  intimate,  from  the  insufficient  con- 
suming power  of  the  public  at  large,  which  in  turn  resulted 
from  the  profit  system.  If  the  wage-earners  and  first-hand 
producers  had  received  purchasing  power  sufficient  to  enable 
them  to  take  up  their  numerical  proportion  of  the  total 
product  offered  in  the  market,  it  would  have  been  cleared 
of  goods  without  any  effort  on  the  part  of  sellers,  for  the 
buyers  would  have  sought  the  sellers  and  been  enough  to 
buy  all.  But  the  purchasing  power  of  the  masses,  owing  to 
the  profits  charged  on  their  products,  being  left  wholly  in- 
adequate to  take  those  products  out  of  the  market,  there 
naturally  followed  a  great  struggle  between  the  capitalists 
engaged  in  production  and  distribution  to  divert  the  most 
possible  of  the  all  too  scanty  buying  each  in  his  own  direc- 
tion. The  total  buying  could  not  of  course  be  increased  a 
dollar  without  relatively  or  absolutely  increasing  the  pur- 
chasing power  in  the  people's  hands,  but  it  was  possible  by 
effort  to  alter  the  particular  directions  in  which  it  should  be 
expended,  and  this  was  the  sole  aim  and  effect  of  competi- 
tion. Our  forefathers  thought  it  a  wonderfully  fine  thing. 
They  called  it  the  life  of  trade,  but,  as  we  have  seen,  it  was 
merely  a  symptom  of  the  effect  of  the  profit  system  to  crip- 
ple consumption." 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE  OF  THE  PROFIT  SYSTEM.   171 

"  What  were  the  methods  which  the  capitalists  engaged 
in  production  and  exchange  made  use  of  to  bring  trade  their 
way,  as  they  used  to  say  ? " 

"  First  was  direct  solicitation  of  buyers  and  a  shameless 
vaunting  of  every  one's  wares  by  himself  and  his  hired 
mouthpieces,  coupled  with  a  boundless  depreciation  of  rival 
sellers  and  the  wares  they  offered.  Unscrupulous  and  un- 
bounded misrepresentation  was  so  universally  the  rule  in 
business  that  even  when  here  and  there  a  dealer  told  the 
truth  he  commanded  no  credence.  History  indicates  that 
lying  lias  always  been  more  or  less  common,  but  it  remained 
for  the  competitive  system  as  fully  developed  in  the  nine- 
teenth century  to  make  it  the  means  of  livelihood  of  the 
whole  world.  According  to  our  grandfathers— and  they 
certainly  ought  to  have  known — the  only  lubricant  which 
was  adapted  to  the  machinery  of  the  profit  system  was  false- 
hood, and  the  demand  for  it  was  unlimited." 

"  And  all  this  ocean  of  lying,  you  say,  did  not  and  could 
not  increase  the  total  of  goods  consumed  by  a  dollar's 
worth." 

"  Of  course  not.  Nothing,  as  I  said,  could  increase  that 
save  an  increase  in  the  purchasing  power  of  the  people.  Tlie 
system  of  solicitation  or  advertising,  as  it  was  called,  far 
from  increasing  the  total  sale,  tended  powerfully  to  de- 
crease it." 

"How  so?" 

"  Because  it  was  prodigiously  expensive  and  the  expense 
had  to  be  added  to  the  price  of  the  goods  and  paid  by  the 
consumer,  who  therefore  could  buy  just  so  much  less  than 
if  he  had  been  left  in  peace  and  the  price  of  the  goods  had 
been  reduced  by  the  saving  in  advertising." 

"You  say  that  the  only  way  by  which  consumption 
could  have  been  increased  was  by  increasing  the  purchas- 
ing power  in  the  hands  of  the  people  relatively  to  the  goods 
to  be  bought.  Now,  our  forefathers  claimed  that  this  was 
just  what  competition  did.  They  claimed  that  it  was  a  po- 
tent means  of  reducing  prices  and  cutting  down  the  rate  of 
profits,  thereby  relatively  increasing  the  purchasing  power 
of  the  masses.     Was  this  claim  well  based  ? " 

"The  rivalry  of  the  capitalists  among  themselves,"  re- 


172  EQUALITY. 

plied  the  lad,  "to  tempt  the  huyers'  custom  certainly- 
prompted  them  to  undersell  one  another  by  nominal  reduc- 
tions of  prices,  but  it  was  rarely  that  these  nominal  reduc- 
tions, though  often  in  appearance  very  large,  really  repre- 
sented in  the  long  run  any  economic  benefit  to  the  people 
at  large,  for  they  were  generally  effected  by  means  which 
nullified  their  practical  value." 

"  Please  make  that  clear." 

"  Well,  naturally,  the  capitalist  would  prefer  to  reduce 
the  prices  of  his  goods  in  such  a  way,  if  possible,  as  not  to 
reduce  his  profits,  and  that  would  be  his  study.  There  were 
numerous  devices  which  he  employed  to  this  end.  The  first 
was  that  of  reducing  the  quality  and  real  worth  of  the  goods 
on  which  the  price  was  nominally  cut  down.  This  was 
done  by  adulteration  and  scamped  work,  and  the  practice 
extended  in  the  nineteenth  century  to  ever^^  branch  of  in- 
dustry and  commerce  and  affected  pretty  nearly  all  arti- 
cles of  human  consumption.  It  came  to  that  point,  as  the 
histories  tell  us,  that  no  one  could  ever  depend  on  anything 
he  purchased  being  what  it  appeared  or  was  represented. 
The  whole  atmosphere  of  trade  was  mephitic  with  chicane. 
It  became  the  policy  of  the  capitalists  engaged  in  the  most 
important  lines  of  manufacture  to  turn  out  goods  expressly 
made  with  a  view  to  wearing  as  short  a  time  as  possible,  so 
as  to  need  the  speedier  renewal.  They  taught  their  very 
machines  to  be  dishonest,  and  corrupted  steel  and  brass. 
Even  the  purblind  people  of  that  day  recognized  the  vanity 
of  the  pretended  reductions  in  price  by  the  epithet  '  cheap 
and  nasty,'  with  which  they  characterized  cheapened  goods. 
All  this  class  of  reductions,  it  is  plain,  cost  the  consumer 
two  dollars  for  every  one  it  professed  to  save  him.  As  a 
single  illustration  of  the  utterly  deceptive  character  of  re- 
ductions in  price  under  the  profit  system,  it  may  be  recalled 
that  toward  the  close  of  the  nineteenth  century  in  America, 
after  almost  magical  inventions  for  reducing  the  cost  of 
shoemaking,  it  was  a  common  saying  that  although  the 
price  of  shoes  was  considerably  lower  than  fifty  years  be- 
fore, when  they  were  made  bj^  hand,  yet  that  later-made 
shoes  were  so  much  poorer  in  quality  as  to  be  really  quite 
as  expensive  as  the  earlier." 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE  OF  THE   PROFIT  SYSTEM.   173 

"  Were  adulteration  and  scamped  work  the  only  devices 
by  which  sham  reductions  of  prices  was  effected  ? " 

"  There  were  two  other  ways.  The  first  was  where  the 
capitalist  saved  his  profits  while  reducing  the  price  of  goods 
by  taking  the  reduction  out  of  the  wages  he  had  paid  his 
employees.  This  was  the  method  by  which  the  reductions 
in  price  were  very  generally  brought  about.  Of  course, 
the  process  was  one  which  crippled  the  purchasing  power 
of  the  community  by  the  amount  of  the  lowered  wages. 
B}^  this  means  the  particular  group  of  capitalists  cutting 
down  wages  might  quicken  their  sales  for  a  time  until  other 
capitalists  likewise  cut  wages.  In  the  end  nobody  was 
helped,  not  even  the  capitalist.  Then  there  was  the  third  of 
the  three  main  kinds  of  reductions  in  price  to  be  credited  to 
competition — namely,  that  made  on  account  of  labor-saving 
machinery  or  other  inventions  which  enabled  the  capitalist 
to  discharge  his  laborers.  The  reduction  in  price  on  the 
goods  was  here  based,  as  in  the  former  case,  on  the  reduced 
amount  of  wages  paid  out,  and  consequently  meant  a  re- 
duced purchasing  power  on  the  part  of  the  community, 
which,  in  the  total  effect,  usually  nullified  the  advantage  of 
reduced  price,  and  often  more  than  nullified  it." 

"You  have  shown,''  said  the  teacher,  "that  most  of  the 
reductions  of  price  effected  by  comj)etition  w^ere  reductions 
at  the  expense  of  the  original  producers  or  of  the  final  con- 
sumers, and  not  reductions  in  profits.  Do  you  mean  to  say 
that  the  couipetition  of  capitalists  for  trade  never  operated 
to  reduce  profits  ? " 

"  Undoubtedlj^  it  did  so  operate  in  countries  where  from 
the  long  operation  of  the  profit  system  surplus  capital  had 
accumulated  so  as  to  compete  under  great  pressure  for  in- 
vestment; but  under  such  circumstances  reductions  in 
prices,  even  though  they  might  come  from  sacrifices  of 
profits,  usually  came  too  late  to  increase  the  consumption 
of  the  people," 

"  How  too  late  ? " 

"  Because  the  capitalist  had  naturally  refrained  from 
sacrificing  his  profits  in  order  to  reduce  prices  so  long  as  he 
could  take  the  cost  of  the  reduction  out  of  the  wages  of  his 
workmen  or  out  of  the  first-hand  producer.     That  is  to  say,  it 


174:  EQUALITY. 

was  only  when  the  working  masses  had  been  reduced  to  pretty 
near  the  minimum  subsistence  point  that  the  capitalist  would 
decide  to  sacrifice  a  portion  of  his  profits.  By  that  time  it  was 
too  late  for  the  people  to  take  advantage  of  the  reduction. 
When  a  population  had  reached  that  point,  it  had  no  buying 
power  left  to  be  stimulated.  Nothing  short  of  giving  com- 
modities away  freely  could  help  it.  Accordingly,  we  ob- 
serve that  in  the  nineteenth  century  it  was  always  in  the 
countries  where  the  populations  were  most  hopelessly  poor 
that  the  prices  were  lowest.  It  was  in  this  sense  a  bad  sign 
for  the  economic  condition  of  a  community  when  the  capi- 
talist found  it  necessary  to  make  a  real  sacrifice  of  profits, 
for  it  was  a  clear  indication  that  the  working  masses  had 
been  squeezed  until  they  could  be  squeezed  no  longer." 

"  Then,  on  the  whole,  competition  was  not  a  palliative  of 
the  profit  system  ? " 

"  I  think  that  it  has  been  made  apparent  that  it  was  a 
grievous  aggi'avation  of  it.  The  desj^erate  rivalry  of  the 
capitalists  for  a  share  in  the  scanty  market  which  their  own 
profit  taking  had  beggared  drove  them  to  the  practice  of 
deception  and  brutality,  and  compelled  a  hard-heartedness 
such  as  we  are  bound  to  believe  human  beings  would  not 
under  a  less  pressure  have  been  guilty  of." 

'•  What  was  the  general  economic  effect  of  competition  ? " 

"  It  operated  in  all  fields  of  industry,  and  in  the  long  run 
for  all  classes,  the  capitalists  as  well  as  the  non-capitalists, 
as  a  steady  downward  pull  as  irresistible  and  universal  as 
gravitation.  Those  felt  it  first  who  had  least  capital,  the 
wage-earners  who  had  none,  and  the  farmer  proprietors 
who,  having  next  to  none,  were  under  almost  the  same  pres- 
sure to  find  a  prompt  market  at  any  sacrifice  of  their  prod- 
uct, as  were  the  wage-earners  to  find  prompt  buyers  for 
their  labor.  These  classes  were  the  first  victims  of  the  com- 
petition to  sell  in  the  glutted  markets  of  things  and  of  men. 
Next  came  the  turn  of*  the  smaller  capitalists,  till  finally 
only  the  largest  were  left,  and  these  found  it  necessary  for 
self-preservation  to  protect  themselves  against  the  process  of 
competitive  decimation  by  the  consolidation  of  their  inter- 
ests. One  of  the  signs  of  the  times  in  the  period  preceding 
the  Bevolution  was  this  tendency  among  the  great  capital- 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE   OF  THE   PROFIT   SYSTEM.   175 

ists  to  seek  refuge  from  the  destructive  efforts  of  competition 
through  the  pooling  of  their  undertakings  in  gi-eat  trusts 
and  syndicates.'' 

''  Suppose  the  Revolution  had  not  come  to  interrupt  that 
process,  would  a  sj'stem  under  which  capital  and  the  con- 
trol of  all  business  had  been  consolidated  in  a  few  hands 
have  been  worse  for  the  i3ublic  interest  than  the  effect  of 
competition  ? " 

"  Such  a  consolidated  system  would,  of  course,  have  been 
an  intolerable  despotism,  the  yoke  of  which,  once  assumed, 
tlie  race  might  never  have  been  able  to  break.  In  that  re- 
spect private  capitalism  under  a  consolidated  plutocracy, 
such  as  impended  at  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  would  have 
been  a  worse  threat  to  the  world's  future  than  the  com- 
petitive system  ;  but  as  to  the  immediate  bearings  of  the  two 
systems  on  human  welfare,  private  capital  in  the  consoli- 
dated form  might  have  had  some  points  of  advantage. 
Being  an  autocracy,  it  would  have  at  least  given  some 
chance  to  a  benevolent  despot  to  be  better  than  the  system 
and  to  ameliorate  a  little  the  conditions  of  the  people,  and 
that  was  something  competition  did  not  allow  the  capitalists 
to  do." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? '' 

"  I  mean  that  under  competition  there  was  no  free  play 
whatever  allowed  for  the  capitalist's  better  feelings  even  if 
he  had  any.  He  could  not  be  better  than  the  system.  If 
he  tried  to  be,  the  system  would  crush  him.  He  had  to  fol- 
low the  pace  set  by  his  competitors  or  fail  in  business. 
Whatever  rascality  or  cruelty  his  rivals  might  devise,  he 
must  imitate  or  drop  out  of  the  struggle.  The  very  wicked- 
est, meanest,  and  most  rascally  of  the  competitors,  the  one 
who  ground  his  employees  lowest,  adulterated  his  goods 
most  shamefully,  and  lied  about  them  most  skillfully,  set 
the  pace  for  all  the  rest." 

"  Evidently,  John,  if  you  had  lived  in  the  early  part  of 
the  revolutionary  agitation  you  would  have  had  scant  sym- 
pathy with  those  early  reformers  whose  fear  was  lest  the 
great  monopolies  would  put  an  end  to  competition." 

"I  can't  say  whether  I  should  have  been  wiser  than  my 
contemporaries  in  that  case,"  replied  the  lad,  "but  I  think 


176  EQUALITY. 

my  gratitude  to  the  monopolists  for  destroying  competition 
would  have  been  only  equaled  by  my  eagerness  to  destroy 
the  monopolists  to  make  way  for  public  capitalism." 

ROBERT  TELLS  ABOUT  THE  GLUT  OF  MEN. 

"  Now,  Robert,"  said  the  teacher,  "  John  has  told  us  how 
the  glut  of  products  resulting  from  the  x)rofit  system  caused 
a  competition  among  capitalists  to  sell  goods  and  what  its 
consequences  were.  There  was,  however,  another  sort  of  glut 
besides  that  of  goods  which  resulted  from  the  profit  sj^stem. 
What  was  that  ? " 

"  A  glut  of  men,"  replied  the  boy  Robert.  "  Lack  of  buj^- 
ing  power  on  the  part  of  the  people,  whether  from  lack  of  em- 
ployment or  lowered  wages,  meant  less  demand  for  products, 
and  that  meant  less  work  for  producers.  Clogged  store- 
houses meant  closed  factories  and  idle  populations  of  work- 
ers who  could  get  no  work — that  is  to  say,  the  glut  in  the 
goods  market  caused  a  corresponding  glut  in  the  labor  or 
man  market.  And  as  the  glut  in  the  goods  market  stimu- 
lated competition  among  the  capitalists  to  sell  their  goods, 
so  likewise  did  the  glut  in  the  labor  market  stimulate  an 
equall}^  desperate  competition  among  the  workers  to  sell  their 
labor.  The  capitalists  who  could  not  find  buyers  for  their 
goods  lost  their  money  indeed,  but  those  who  had  nothing  to 
sell  but  their  strength  and  skill,  and  could  find  none  to  buy, 
must  perish.  The  capitalist,  unless  his  goods  were  perish- 
able, could  wait  for  a  market,  but  the  workingmau  must 
find  a  buyer  for  his  labor  at  once  or  die.  And  in  respect  to 
this  inability  to  wait  for  a  market,  the  farmer,  while  tech- 
nically a  capitalist,  was  little  better  off  than  the  wage-earner 
being,  on  account  of  the  smallness  of  his  capital,  almost 
as  unable  to  withhold  his  product  as  the  workingman  his 
labor.  The  pressing  necessity  of  the  wage-earner  to  sell  his 
labor  at  once  on  any  terms  and  of  the  small  capitalist  to 
dispose  of  his  product  was  the  means  by  which  the  great 
capitalists  were  able  steadily  to  force  down  the  rate  of  wages 
and  the  prices  paid  for  their  product  to  the  first  producers." 

'*  And  was  it  only  among  the  wage-earners  and  the  small 
producers  that  this  glut  of  men  existed  ? " 

"  On  the  contra^ry,  every  trade,  every  occupation,  every 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE  OF  THE  PROFIT  SYSTEM.  177 

art,  and  every  profession,  including  the  most  learned  ones, 
was  similarly  oveixjrowded,  and  those  in  the  ranks  of  each 
regarded  every  fresh  recruit  with  jealous  eyes,  seeing  in  him 
one  more  rival  in  the  struggle  for  life,  making  it  just  so 
much  more  difficult  than  it  had  been  before.  It  would 
seem  that  in  tliose  days  no  man  could  have  had  any  satis- 
faction in  his  labor,  however  self-denying  and  arduous,  for 
he  must  always  have  been  haui>ted  by  the  feeling  that  it 
would  have  been  kinder  to  have  stood  aside  and  let  another 
do  the  work  and  take  the  pay,  seeing  that  there  was  not  work 
and  pay  for  all." 

"  Tell  us,  Robert,  did  not  our  ancestors  recognize  the  facts 
of  the  situation  you  have  described  ?  Did  they  not  see  that 
this  glut  of  men  indicated  something  out  of  order  in  the 
social  arrangements  ?  " 

''  Certainly.  They  professed  to  be  much  distressed  over 
it.  A  large  literature  was  devoted  to  discussing  why  there 
was  not  enough  work  to  go  around  in  a  world  in  which  so 
much  more  work  evidently  needed  to  be  done  as  indicated 
by  its  general  poverty.  The  Congresses  and  Legislatures 
were  constantly  appointing  commissions  of  learned  men  to 
investigate  and  report  on  the  subject." 

"And  did  these  learned  men  ascribe  it  to  its  obvious 
cause  as  the  necessary  effect  of  the  profit  system  to  maiutain 
and  constantly  increase  a  gap  between  the  consuming  and 
producing  power  of  the  community  ?  " 

"  Dear  me,  no !  To  have  criticised  the  profit  system 
would  have  been  flat  blasphemy.  The  learned  men  called 
it  a  problem — the  problem  of  the  unemployed — and  gave  it 
up  as  a  conundrum.  It  was  a  favorite  way  our  ancestors 
had  of  dodging  questions  which  they  could  not  answer 
without  attacking  vested  interests  to  call  them  problems 
and  give  them  up  as  insolvable  mysteries  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence." 

"  There  was  one  philosopher,  Robert — an  Englishman — 
who  went  to  the  bottom  of  this  difficulty  of  the  glut  of  men 
resulting  from  the  profit  system.  He  stated  the  only  way 
possible  to  avoid  the  glut,  provided  the  profit  system  w^as 
retained.     Do  you  remember  his  name  ? " 

•'  You  mean  Malthus,  I  suppose." 


178  EQUALITY. 

"  Yes.     What  was  his  plan  ?  " 

"  He  advised  poor  people,  as  the  only  way  to  avoid  star- 
vation, not  to  get  born — that  is,  I  mean  he  advised  poor 
people  not  to  have  children.  This  old  fellow,  as  you  say, 
was  the  only  one  of  the  lot  who  went  to  the  root  of  the  profit 
system,  and  saw  that  there  was  not  room  for  it  and  for  man- 
kind on  the  earth.  Regarding  the  profit  system  as  a  G-od- 
ordained  necessity,  there  could  be  no  doubt  in  his  mind  that 
it  was  mankind  which  must,  under  the  circumstances,  get 
off  the  earth.  People  called  Malthus  a  cold-blooded  philos- 
opher. Perhaps  he  was,  but  certainly  it  was  only  common 
humanity  that,  so  long  as  the  profit  system  lasted,  a  red  flag 
should  be  hung  out  on  the  planet,  warning  souls  not  to  land 
except  at  their  own  risk." 

EMILY   SHOAVS   THE   NECESSITY  OF   WASTE   PIPES. 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,  Robert,"  said  the  teacher,  "  and 
now,  Emily,  we  will  ask  you  to  take  us  in  charge  as  we  pur- 
sue a  little  further  this  interesting,  if  not  very  edifying 
theme.  The  economic  system  of  production  and  distribu- 
tion by  which  a  nation  lives  may  fitly  be  compared  to  a 
cistern  with  a  supply  pipe,  representing  production,  by 
which  water  is  pumped  in  ;  and  an  escape  pipe,  repre- 
senting consumption,  by  which  the  product  is  disposed  of. 
When  the  cistern  is  scientifically  constructed  the  supply 
pipe  and  escape  pipe  correspond  in  capacity,  so  that  the 
water  may  be  drawn  off  as  fast  as  supplied,  and  none  be 
wasted  by  overflow.  Under  the  profit  system  of  our  an- 
cestors, however,  the  arrangement  was  different.  Instead 
of  corresponding  in  capacity  with  the  supply  pipe  repre- 
senting production,  the  outlet  representing  consumption  was 
half  or  two  thirds  shut  off  by  the  water-gate  of  profits,  so 
that  it  was  not  able  to  carry  off  more  than,  say,  a  half  or 
a  third  of  the  supply  that  was  pumped  into  the  cistern 
through  the  feed  pipe  of  production.  Now,  Emily,  what 
would  be  the  natural  effect  of  such  a  lack  of  correspond- 
ence between  the  inlet  and  the  outlet  capacity  of  the  cis- 
tern ? " 

"  Obviously,"  replied  the  girl  who  answered  to  the  name 
of  Emily,  "  the  effect  would  be  to  clog  the  cistern,  and  com- 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE  OF  THE  PROFIT  SYSTEM.  179 

pel  the  pumps  to  slow  down  to  half  or  one  third  of  their 
capacity — namely,  to  the  capacity  of  the  escape  pipe." 

"But,"  said  the  teacher,  "suppose  that  in  the  case  of  the 
cistern  used  by  our  ancestors  the  effect  of  slowing  down  the 
pump  of  production  was  to  diminish  still  further  the  capacity 
of  the  escape  pipe  of  consumption,  already  nmch  too  small, 
by  depriving  the  working  masses  of  even  the  small  purchas- 
ing power  they  had  before  possessed  in  the  form  of  wages 
for  labor  or  prices  for  produce." 

"Why,  in  that  case,"  replied  the  girl,  "it  is  evident  that 
since  slowing  down  production  only  checked  instead  of  has- 
tening relief  by  consumption,  there  would  be  no  way  to 
avoid  a  stoppage  of  the  whole  service  except  to  relieve  the 
pressure  in  tlie  cistern  by  opening  waste  pipes." 

"  Precisely  so.  Well,  now,  we  are  in  a  position  to  appre- 
ciate how  necessary  a  part  the  waste  pipes  played  in  the 
economic  system  of  our  forefathers.  We  have  seen  that 
under  that  system  the  bulk  of  the  people  sold  their  labor  or 
produce  to  the  capitalists,  but  were  unable  to  buy  bacls. 
and  consume  but  a  small  part  of  the  result  of  that  labor 
or  produce  in  the  market,  the  rest  remaining  in  the  hands 
of  the  capitalists  as  profits.  Now,  the  capitalists,  being  a 
very  small  body  numerically,  could  consume  upon  their 
necessities  but  a  petty  part  of  these  accumulated  profits,  and 
yet,  if  they  did  not  get  rid  of  them  somehow,  production 
would  stop,  for  the  capitalists  absolutely  controlled  the  in- 
itiative in  production,  and  would  have  no  motive  to  increase 
accumulations  they  could  not  dispose  of.  In  proportion, 
moreover,  as  the  capitalists  from  lack  of  use  for  more  profits 
should  slacken  production,  the  mass  of  the  people,  finding 
none  to  hire  them,  or  buy  their  produce  to  sell  again,  would 
lose  what  little  consuming  power  they  had  before,  and  a 
still  larger  accumulation  of  products  be  left  on  the  capital- 
ists' hands.  The  question  then  is,  How  did  the  capitalists, 
after  consuming  all  they  could  of  their  profits  upon  their 
own  necessities,  dispose  of  the  surplus,  so  as  to  make  room 
for  more  production  ? " 

"Of  course,"  said  the  girl  Emily,  "if  the  surplus  prod- 
ucts were  to  be  so  expended  as  to  relieve  the  glut,  the  first 
point  was  that  they  must  be  expended  in  such  ways  that 


ISO  EQUALITY. 

there  should  be  no  return  for  them.  They  must  be  abso- 
lutely wasted — like  water  poured  into  the  sea.  This  was  ac- 
complished by  the  use  of  the  surplus  products  in  the  support 
of  bodies  of  workers  employed  in  unproductive  kinds  of 
labor.  This  waste  labor  was  of  two  sorts — the  first  was  that 
employed  in  wasteful  industrial  and  commercial  competi- 
tion ;  the  second  was  that  employed  in  the  means  and  serv- 
ices of  luxury." 

"'  Tell  us  about  the  wasteful  expenditure  of  labor  in  com- 
petition." 

"That  was  through  the  undertaking  of  industrial  and 
commercial  enterprises  w^hich  were  not  called  for  by  any 
increase  in  consumption,  their  object  being  merely  the  dis- 
placement of  the  enterprises  of  one  capitalist  by  those  of 
another." 

"And  was  this  a  very  large  cause  of  waste  ? " 

"  Its  magnitude  may  be  inferred  from  the  saying  current 
at  the  time  that  ninety -five  per  cent  of  industrial  and  com- 
mercial enterprises  failed,  which  merely  meant  that  in  this 
proportion  of  instances  capitalists  wasted  their  investments 
in  trying  to  fill  a  demand  which  either  did  not  exist  or  was 
supplied  already.  If  that  estimate  were  even  a  remote  sug- 
gestion of  the  truth,  it  would  serve  to  give  an  idea  of  the 
enormous  amounts  of  accumulated  profits  which  were  abso- 
lutely wasted  in  competitive  expenditure.  And  it  must  be 
remembered  also  that  when  a  capitalist  succeeded  in  dis- 
placing another  and  getting  away  his  business  the  total 
waste  of  capital  was  just  as  great  as  if  he  failed,  only  in  the 
one  case  it  was  the  capital  of  the  previous  investor  that  was 
destroyed  instead  of  the  capital  of  the  newcomer.  In  every 
country  which  had  attained  any  degree  of  economic  devel- 
opment there  were  many  times  more  business  enterprises  in 
every  line  than  there  was  business  for,  and  many  times  as 
much  capital  already  invested  as  there  was  a  return  for.  The 
only  way  in  which  new  capital  could  be  put  into  business  was 
by  forcing  out  and  destroying  old  capital  already  invested. 
The  ever-mounting  aggregation  of  profits  seeking  part  of 
a  market  that  was  prevented  from  increasing  by  the  effect 
of  those  very  profits,  created  a  pressure  of  competition 
among  capitalists  which,  by  all  accounts  that  come  down 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE   OF   THE  PROFIT  SYSTEM.   ISl 

to  us,  must  have  been  like  a  conflagration  in  its  consuming 
effects  upon  cai)ital. 

"Now  tell  us  something  about  the  other  great  waste  of 
profits  by  which  the  i^ressure  in  the  cistern  was  sutficiently 
I'elieved  to  permit  production  to  go  on — that  is  to  say,  the 
expenditure  of  profits  for  the  employment  of  labor  in  the 
service  of  luxury.     What  was  luxury  ? " 

''  The  term  luxury,  in  referring  to  the  state  of  society  be- 
fore the  Revolution,  meant  the  lavish  expenditure  of  wealth 
by  the  rich  to  gratify  a  refined  sensualism,  while  the  masses 
of  the  people  were  suffering  lack  of  the  primary  necessi- 
ties." 

"What  were  some  of  the  modes  of  luxurious  exi^endi- 
ture  indulged  in  by  the  capitalists  ? " 

"  They  were  unlimited  in  variety,  as,  for  example,  the 
construction  of  costly  palaces  for  residence  and  their  deco- 
ration in  royal  style,  the  support  of  great  retinues  of  serv- 
ants, costly  supplies  for  the  table,  rich  equipages,  pleasure 
ships,  and  all  manner  of  boundless  expenditure  in  fine  rai- 
ment and  precious  stones.  Ingenuity  was  exhausted  in  con- 
triving devices  by  which  the  rich  might  waste  the  abun- 
dance the  x^eople  were  dying  for.  A  vast  army  of  laborers 
was  constantly  engaged  in  manufacturing  an  infinite  variety 
of  articles  and  appliances  of  elegance  and  ostentation  which 
mocked  the  unsatisfied  primary"  necessities  of  those  who 
toiled  to  produce  them." 

"  What  have  you  to  say  of  the  moral  aspect  of  this  ex- 
penditure for  luxury  ? " 

"  If  the  entire  community  had  arrived  at  that  stage  of 
economic  prosperity  which  would  enable  all  alike  to  enjoy 
the  luxuries  equally,"  replied  the  girl,  "indulgence  in  them 
would  have  been  merely  a  question  of  taste.  But  this  waste 
of  wealth  by  tlie  rich  in  the  i3resence  of  a  vast  population 
suffering  lack  of  the  bare  necessaries  of  life  was  an  illustra- 
tion of  inhumanity  that  would  seem  incredible  on  the  part 
of  civilized  people  were  not  the  facts  so  well  substantiated. 
Imagine  a  company  of  persons  sitting  down  with  enjoyment 
to  a  banquet,  while  on  the  floors  and  all  about  the  corners 
of  the  banquet  hall  were  groups  of  fellow-beings  dying  with 
want  and  following  with  hungry  eyes  everv  morsel  the 
13 


182  EQUALITY. 

feasters  lifted  to  tlieir  mouths.  And  yet  that  precisely  de- 
scribes the  way  in  which  the  rich  used  to  spend  their  profits 
in  the  great  cities  of  America,  France,  England,  and  Ger- 
many before  the  Revolution,  the  one  difference  being  that 
the  needy  and  the  hungry,  instead  of  being  in  the  banquet 
room  itself,  were  just  outside  on  the  street." 

"  It  was  claimed,  was  it  not,  by  the  apologists  of  the  lux- 
urious expenditure  of  the  capitalists  that  they  thus  gave 
employment  to  many  who  would  otherwise  have  lacked  it  ? " 

"And  why  would  they  have  lacked  employment  ?  Why 
were  the  people  glad  to  find  employment  in  catering  to  the 
luxurious  pleasures  and  indulgences  of  the  capitalists,  sell- 
ing themselves  to  the  most  frivolous  and  degrading  uses  ? 
It  was  simply  because  the  profit  taking  of  these  same  capi- 
talists, by  reducing  the  consuming  power  of  the  people  to  a 
fraction  of  its  producing  power,  had  correspondingly  limited 
the  field  of  productive  employment,  in  which  under  a  ra- 
tional system  there  must  always  have  been  work  for  every 
hand  until  all  needs  were  satisfied,  even  as  there  is  now. 
In  excusing  their  luxurious  expenditure  on  the  ground  you 
have  mentioned,  the  capitalists  pleaded  the  results  of  one 
wrong  to  justify  the  commission  of  another." 

"  The  moralists  of  all  ages,"  said  the  teacher,  "  condemned 
the  luxmy  of  the  rich.  Why  did  their  censm^es  effect  no 
change  ? " 

"Because  they  did  not  understand  the  economics  of  the 
subject.  They  failed  to  see  that  under  the  profit  system  the 
absolute  v»^aste  of  the  excess  of  profits  in  unproductive  ex- 
penditure was  an  economic  necessity,  if  production  was  to 
proceed,  as  you  showed  in  comparing  it  with  the  cistern. 
The  waste  of  profits  in  luxury  was  an  economic  necessity,  to 
use  another  figure,  precisely  as  a  running  sore  is  a  necessary 
vent  in  some  cases  for  the  impurities  of  a  diseased  body. 
Under  our  system  of  equal  sharing,  the  wealth  of  a  commu- 
nity is  freely  and  equally  distributed  among  its  members  as 
is  the  blood  in  a  healthy  body.  But  when,  as  under  the  old 
system,  that  wealth  was  concentrated  in  the  hands  of  a  por- 
tion of  the  community,  it  lost  its  vitalizing  quality,  as  does 
the  blood  when  congested  in  particular  organs,  and  like  that 
becomes  an  active  poison,  to  be  got  rid  of  at  any  cost.    Lux- 


ECONOMIC   SUICIDE  OF  THE   PROFIT  SYSTEM.  183 

ury  in  this  way  might  be  called  an  ulcer,  which  must  be 
kept  open  if  the  profit  system  was  to  continue  on  any 
terms." 

'"  You  say,"  said  the  teacher,  "  tliat  in  order  that  produc- 
tion should  go  on  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  get  the  ex- 
cess of  profits  wasted  in  some  sort  of  unproductive  expendi- 
ture. But  might  not  the  profit  takers  have  devised  some 
way  of  getting  rid  of  the  surplus  more  intelligent  tlran 
mere  competition  to  displace  one  another,  and  more  con- 
sistent with  humane  feeling  than  wasting  wealth  upon  re- 
finements of  sensual  indulgence  in  the  presence  of  a  needy 
multitude  ? " 

"'  Certainly.  If  the  capitalists  had  cared  at  all  about  the 
humane  aspect  of  the  matter,  they  could  have  taken  a  much 
less  demoralizing  method  in  getting  rid  of  the  obstructive 
surplus.  They  could  have  periodically  made  a  bonfire  of  it 
as  a  burnt  sacrifice  to  the  god  Profit,  or,  if  they  pi'eferr-ed,  it 
might  have  been  cai-ried  out  in  scows  beyond  soundings 
and  dumped  there." 

"  It  is  easy  to  see,"  said  the  teacher,  "  that  from  a  moral 
point  of  view  such  a  periodical  bonfire  or  dump  would  have 
been  vastly  more  edifying  to  gods  and  men  than  was  the 
actual  practice  of  expending  it  in  luxuries  which  mocked 
the  bitter  want  of  the  mass.  But  how  about  the  economic 
operation  of  this  plan  ? " 

"It  would  have  been  as  advantageous  economically  as 
morally.  The  process  of  wasting  the  surplus  profits  in  com- 
petition and  luxury  was  slow  and  protracted,  and  mean- 
while productive  industry  languished  and  the  workers 
waited  in  idleness  and  want  for  the  surplus  to  be  so  far  re- 
duced as  to  make  room  for  more  production.  But  if  the 
surplus  at  once,  on  being  ascertained,  were  destroyed,  pro- 
ductive industry  would  go  right  on." 

"  But  how  about  the  workmen  employed  by  the  capital- 
ists in  ministering  to  their  luxuries  ?  Would  they  not 
have  been  thrown  out  of  work  if  luxury  had  been  given 
up  ? " 

"  On  the  contrary,  under  the  bonfire  system  there  would 
have  been  a  constant  demand  for  them  in  productive  em- 
ployment to  provide  material  for  the  blaze,  and  that  surely 


184  .      EQUALITY. 

would  have  been  a  far  more  worthy  occupation  than  help- 
ing the  capitalists  to  consume  in  folly  the  product  of  their 
brethren  employed  in  productive  industry.  But  the  greatest 
advantage  of  all  which  would  have  resulted  from  the  sub- 
stitution of  the  bonfire  for  luxury  remains  to  be  mentioned. 
By  the  time  the  nation  had  made  a  few  such  annual  burnt 
offerings  to  the  principle  of  profit,  perhaps  even  after  the 
first  one,  it  is  likely  they  would  begin  to  question,  in  the 
light  of  such  vivid  object  lessons,  whether  the  moral  beau- 
ties of  the  profit  system  were  sufficient  compensation  for  so 
large  an  economic  sacrifice." 

CHARLES  REMOVES  AN  APPREHENSION. 

"  Now,  Charles,"  said  the  teacher,  "  you  shall  help  us  a 
little  on  a  point  of  conscience.  We  have,  one  and  another, 
told  a  very  bad  story  about  the  profit  system,  both  in  its 
moral  and  its  economic  aspects.  Now,  is  it  not  possible  that 
we  have  done  it  injustice  ?  Have  we  not  jDainted  too  black 
a  picture  ?  From  an  ethical  point  of  view  we  could  indeed 
scarcely  have  done  so,  for  there  are  no  words  strong  enough 
to  justly  characterize  the  mock  it  made  of  all  the  humani- 
ties. But  have  we  not  possibly  asserted  too  strongly  its 
economic  imbecility  and  the  hopelessness  of  the  world's  out- 
look for  material  VN^elfare  so  long  as  it  should  be  tolerated  ? 
Can  you  reassure  us  on  this  ijoint  ? " 

"  Easily,"  replied  the  lad  Charles.  "  No  more  conclusive 
testimony  to  the  hopelessness  of  the  economic  outlook  under 
private  capitalism  could  be  desired  than  is  abundantly  given 
by  the  nineteenth-century  economists  themselves.  While 
they  seemed  quite  incapable  of  imagining  an;yi:hing  difi'er- 
ent  from  private  capitalism  as  the  basis  of  an  economic  sys- 
tem, they  cherished  no  illusions  as  to  its  operation.  Far 
from  trying  to  comfort  mankind  by  promising  that  if  pres- 
ent  ills  were  bravely  borne  matters  would  grow  better,  they 
expressly  taught  that  the  profit  system  must  inevitably  re- 
sult at  some  time  not  far  ahead  in  the  arrest  of  industrial 
progress  and  a  stationary  condition  of  production." 

"  How  did  they  make  that  out  ? " 

"  They  recognized,  as  we  do,  the  tendency  under  private 
capitalism  of  rents,  interest,  and  profits  to  accumulate  as 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE  OF  THE  PROFIT  SYSTEM.  185 

capital  ill  the  hands  of  the  capitalist  class,  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  consuming  power  of  the  masses  did  not  in- 
crease, but  either  decreased  or  remained  practically  station- 
ary. From  this  lack  of  equilibrium  between  production  and 
consumption  it  followed  that  the  difficulty  of  profitably  em- 
ploying capital  in  productive  industry  must  increase  as  the 
accumulations  of  capital  so  disposable  should  grow.  The 
home  market  having  been  first  glutted  with  products  and 
afterward  the  foreign  market,  the  competition  of  the  capi- 
talists to  find  productive  employment  for  their  capital 
would  lead  them,  after  having  reduced  wages  to  the  lowest 
possible  point,  to  bid  for  what  was  left  of  the  market  by  re- 
ducing their  own  profits  to  the  minimum  point  at  which  it 
was  worth  while  to  risk  capital.  Below  this  point  more 
capital  would  not  be  invested  in  business.  Thus  the  rate  of 
wealth  production  would  cease  to  advance,  and  become  sta- 
tionary." 

"This,  you  say,  is  what  the  nineteenth- century  econo- 
mists themselves  taught  concerning  the  outcome  of  the 
profit  system  ? " 

"Certainly.  I  could  quote  from  their  standard  books 
any  number  of  passages  foretelling  this  condition  of  things, 
which,  indeed,  it  required  no  prophet  to  foretell." 

"  How  near  was  the  world — that  is,  of  course,  the  nations 
whose  industrial  evolution  had  gone  farthest — to  this  condi- 
tion when  the  Revolution  came  ?" 

"They  were  apparently  on  its  verge.  The  more  eco- 
nomically advanced  countries  had  generally  exhausted  their 
home  markets  and  were  struggling  desperately  for  what 
was  left  of  foreign  markets.  The  rate  of  interest,  which 
indicated  the  degree  to  which  capital  had  become  glutted, 
had  fallen  in  England  to  two  per  cent  and  in  America 
within  thirty  years  had  sunk  from  seven  and  six  to  five 
and  three  and  four  per  cent,  and  was  falling  year  by  year. 
Productive  industry  had  become  generally  clogged,  and  pro- 
ceeded by  fits  and  starts.  In  America  the  wage-earners 
were  becoming  proletarians,  and  the  farmers  fast  sinking 
into  the  state  of  a  tenantry.  It  was  indeed  the  popular 
discontent  caused  by  these  conditions,  coupled  with  appre- 
hension of  worse  to  come,  which  finally  roused  the  people 


186  EQUALITY. 

at  the  close  of  the  nineteenth  century  to  the  necessity  of 
destroying  private  capitalism  for  good  and  all." 

"And  do  I  understand,  then,  that  this  stationary  condi- 
tion, after  which  no  increase  in  the  rate  of  wealth  produc- 
tion could  be  looked  for,  was  setting  in  while  yet  the  primary 
needs  of  the  masses  remained  unprovided  for  ? " 

"  Certainly.  The  satisfaction  of  the  needs  of  the  masses, 
as  we  have  abundantly  seen,  was  in  no  way  recognized  as  a 
motive  for  production  under- the  profit  system.  As  produc- 
tion approached  the  stationary  point  the  misery  of  the  peo- 
ple would,  in  fact,  increase  as  a  direct  result  of  the  competi- 
tion among  capitalists  to  invest  their  glut  of  capital  in 
business.  In  order  to  do  so,  as  has  already  been  shown, 
they  sought  to  reduce  the  prices  of  products,  and  that 
meant  the  reduction  of  wages  to  wage-earners  and  prices  to 
first  producers  to  the  lowest  possible  point  before  any  reduc- 
tion in  the  profits  of  the  capitalist  was  considered.  What 
the  old  economists  called  the  stationary  condition  of  produc- 
tion meant,  therefore,  the  perpetuation  indefinitely  of  the 
maximum  degree  of  hardship  endurable  by  the  people  at 
large." 

"  That  will  do,  Charles  ;  you  have  said  enough  to  relieve 
any  apprehension  that  possibly  w^e  were  doing  injustice  to 
the  profit  system.  Evidently  that  could  not  be  done  to  a 
system  of  which  its  own  champions  foretold  such  an  out- 
come as  you  have  described.  What,  indeed,  could  be  added 
to  the  description  they  give  of  it  in  these  predictions  of  the 
stationary  condition  as  a  programme  of  industry  confessing 
itself  at  the  end  of  its  resources  in  the  midst  of  a  naked  and 
starving  race  ?  This  w^as  the  good  time  coming,  with  the 
hope  of  which  the  nineteenth-century  economists  cheered 
the  cold  and  hungry  world  of  toilers — a  time  when,  being 
worse  off  than  ever,  they  nmst  abandon  forever  even  the 
hope  of  improvement.  No  wonder  our  forefathers  de- 
scribed their  so-called  political  economy  as  a  dismal  science, 
for  never  was  there  a  i^essimism  blacker,  a  hopelessness 
more  hopeless  than  it  preached.  Ill  indeed  had  it  been  for 
laumanity  if  it  had  been  truly  a  science. 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE  OF  THE   PROFIT  SYSTEM.   187 

ESTHER  COUNTS  THE  COST  OF  THE  PROFIT  SYSTEM. 
'■  Now,  Estlier,"  the  teacher  pursued,  "  I  am  going  to  ask 
you  to  do  a  little  estimating  as  to  about  how  much  the  pnv- 
£  of  retaining  the  proilt  system  cost  our  foref -Ae- 
Emily  ha«  given  us  an  idea  of  the  magnitude  of  the  two 
gr^fwastel  of  pi.>fits-the  waste  of  competition  and  the 
waste  of  luxury.  Now,  did  the  capital  was  ed  in  he  e  wo 
ways  represent  all  that  the  profit  system  cos   the  people  , 

•  It  did  not  give  a  faint  idea  of  it,  much  le-  -present 
it  ■'  replied  the  girl  Esther.     "  The  aggregate  wea  th  wasted 
espeTtlvely  in  Competition  and  luxury,  could  't   -e  been 
distributed    equally   for  consumption  among    the    people 
would  undovledly  have  considerably  raised  the  general 
"ve   of  comfort.     In  the  cost  of  the  profit  system  to  a  com- 
munity, the  wealth  wasted  by  the  capitalists  was,  however^ 
Z  insignificant  item.     The  bulk  of  that  cos    consisted  m 
^he  effe'ct  of  the  profit  system  to  prevent  wealth  from  ^ing 
produced,   in  holding    back  and  tying  down   the  almot 
boundles    wealth-producing  power  of  man.    Imagine  the 
mas    of  the  population,  instead  of  being  sunk  ,n  poverty 
rndalarc-e  part  of  them  in  bitter  want,  to  have  received 
ffl^ient^to  satisfy  all  their  needs  and  give  them  ample 
fortable  Uves    and  estimate  the  amount  of  additional 
'      1th  thiclU  would  have  been   necessary  to  produce 
Tmet  Standard  of  consumption.    Tliat-ll^ve  you 
KocW  for  rilculatinff  the  amount  of  wealtn  whicii  tiie 

estimate  that  this  would  have  meant  a  fivefold,  seveiiioia, 
:f trLtcrease  of  production  as  you  please  to  |uess 

..  But  tell  us  this :  ^^^;i:\x:^:o!7'^J:<^<^^ 

people  of  America,  say,  in  the  last  quarter  oi 

century,  to  have  multiplied  their  production  at  such  a  rate 

if  r>nnsnmt)tion  had  demanded  it  ? '' 

°Nothin^  is  more  certain  than  that  they  could  easily 
JNotmn  ^^35  of  invention  had  been  so  great 

:ii:e'r^:eil"  ^ury^as  to  multiply  ^-m  ^'X: 
many  hundredfold  the  productive  power  of  industry.  There 
w"no  «me  during  the  last  quarter  of  the  century  m  Amer- 


188  EQUALITY. 

ica  or  in  any  of  the  advanced  countries  when  the  existing 
productive  plants  could  not  have  i)foduced  enough  in  six 
months  to  have  supplied  the  total  annual  consumption  as  it 
actually  was.  And  those  plants  could  have  been  multiplied 
indefinitel}'.  In  like  manner  the  agricultural  product  of 
the  country  was  always  kept  far  w^ithin  its  possibility,  for  a 
plentiful  crop  under  the  profit  system  meant  ruinous  prices 
to  the  farmers.  As  has  been  said,  it  was  an  admitted  propo- 
sition of  the  old  economists  that  there  was  no  visible  limit 
to  production  if  only  sufficient  demand  for  consumption 
could  be  secured." 

"  Can  you  recall  any  instance  in  history  in  which  it  can 
be  argued  that  a  people  paid  so  large  a  pric.e  in  delayed  and 
prevented  development  for  the  privilege  of  retaining  any 
other  tyranny  as  they  did  for  keeping  the  profit  system  ? '" 

"  I  am  sure  there  never  was  such  another  instance,  and  I 
will  tell  you  vchj  1  think  so.  Human  progress  has  been 
delayed  at  various  stages  by  oppressive  institutions,  and  the 
w^orld  has  leaped  forward  at  their  overthrow.  But  there 
was  never  before  a  time  when  the  conditions  had  been  so 
long  ready  and  waiting  for  so  great  and  so  instantaneous  a 
forward  movement  all  along  the  line  of  social  improve- 
ment as  in  the  period  preceding  the  Revolution.  The 
mechanical  and  industrial  forces,  held  in  check  by  the 
profit  system,  only  required  to  be  unleashed  to  transform  the 
economic  condition  of  the  race  as  by  magic.  So  much  for 
the  material  cost  of  the  profit  system  to  our  forefathers; 
but,  vast  as  that  was,  it  is  not  worth  considering  for  a  mo- 
ment in  comparison  with  its  cost  in  human  happiness.  I 
mean  the  moral  cost  in  wrong  and  tears  and  black  negations 
and  stifled  moral  possibilities  which  the  world  paid  for  every 
day's  retention  of  private  capitalism :  there  are  no  w^ords 
adequate  to  express  the  sum  of  that." 

NO  POLITICAL   ECONOMY  BEFORE    THE    REVOLUTION. 

"  That  will  do,  Esther.— Now,  George,  I  want  you  to  tell 
us  just  a  little  about  a  particular  body  among  the  learned 
class  of  the  nineteenth  century,  which,  according  to  the  pro- 
fessions of  its  members,  ought  to  have  known  and  to  have 
taught  the  people  all  that  we  have  so  easily  perceived  as  to 


ECONOMIC   SUICIDE   OF   THE  PROFIT  SYSTEM.   189 

the  suicidal  character  of  the  profit  system  and  the  economic 
perdition  it  meant  for  niankind  so  long  as  it  should  be 
tolerated.     I  refer  to  the  political  economists." 

'•  There  were  no  political  economists  before  the  Revolu- 
tion," replied  the  lad. 

'•But  there  certainly  was  a  large  class  of  learned  men 
who  called  themselves  political  economists." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  but  they  labeled  themselves  wrongly." 

"  How  do  you  make  that  out  ?  " 

"  Because  there  was  not,  until  the  Revolution— except,  of 
course,  among  those  who  sought  to  bring  it  to  pass— any 
conception  whatever  of  what  political  economy  is." 

''  What  is  it  ? " 

'•  Economy,"  replied  the  lad,  "  means  the  wise  husband- 
ry of  wealth  in  production  and  distribution.  Individual 
economy  is  the  science  of  this  husbandry  when  conducted 
in  the  interest  of  the  individual  without  regard  to  any 
others.  Family  economy  is  this  husbandry  carried  on  for 
the  advantage  of  a  family  group  without  regard  to  other 
groups.  Political  economy,  however,  can  only  mean  the 
husbandry  of  wealth  for  the  greatest  advantage  of  the 
political  or  social  body,  the  whole  number  of  the  citizens 
constituting  the  political  organization.  This  sort  of  hus- 
bandry necessarily  implies  a  public  or  political  regulation 
of  economic  afPairs  for  the  general  interest.  But  before  the 
Revolution  there  was  no  conception  of  such  an  economy, 
nor  any  organization  to  carry  it  out.  All  systems  and 
doctrines  of  economy  previous  to  that  time  were  distinctly 
and  exclusively  private  and  individual  in  their  wliole  theory 
and  practice.  While  in  other  respects  our  forefathers  did 
in  various  ways  and  degrees  recognize  a  social  solidarity 
and  a  political  unity  jvith  proportionate  rights  and  duties, 
their  theory  and  practice  as  to  all  matters  touching  the  get- 
ting and  sharing  of  wealth  were  aggressively  and  brutally 
individualistic,  antisocial,  and  unpolitical." 

"  Have  you  ever  looked  over  any  of  the  treatises  which 
our  forefathers  called  political  economies,  at  the  Historical 
Library  ? " 

''I  confess,"  the  boy  answered,  "that  the.  title  of  the 
leading  work  under  that  head  was  enough  for  me.     It  was 


190  EQUALITY. 

called  The  Wealth  of  Nations.  That  would  be  an  admirable 
title  for  a  political  economy  nowadays,  when  the  production 
and  distribution  of  wealth  are  conducted  altogether  by  and 
for  the  people  collectively  ;  but  what  meaning  could  it  con- 
ceivably have  had  as  applied  to  a  book  written  nearly  a 
hundred  years  before  such  a  thing  as  a  national  economic 
organization  was  thought  of,  with  the  sole  view  of  instruct- 
ing capitalists  how  to  get  rich  at  the  cost  of,  or  at  least  in 
total  disregard  of,  the  welfare  of  their  fellow-citizens  ?  I 
noticed  too  that  quite  a  common  subtitle  used  for  these  so- 
called  works  on  political  economy  was  the  phrase  '  The  Sci- 
ence of  Wealth.'  Now  what  could  an  apologist  of  private 
capitalism  and  the  profit  system  possibly  have  to  say  about 
the  science  of  wealth  ?  The  A  B  C  of  any  science  of  wealth 
production  is  the  necessity  of  co-ordination  and  concert  of 
effort ;  whereas  competition,  conflict,  and  endless  cross-pur- 
poses were  the  sum  and  substance  of  the  economic  methods 
set  forth  by  these  writers." 

''And  yet,"  said  the  teacher,^' the  only  real  fault  of  these 
so-called  books  on  Political  Economy  consists  in  the  absurdity 
of  the  title.  Correct  that,  and  their  value  as  documents  of 
the  times  at  once  becomes  evident.  For  example,  we  might 
call  them  '  Examinations  into  the  Economic  and  Social  Con- 
sequences of  trying  to  get  along  without  any  Political  Econ- 
omy.' A  title  scarcely  less  fit  would  perhaps  be  'Studies 
into  the  Natural  Course  of  Economic  Affairs  when  left  to 
Anarchy  by  the  Lack  of  any  Eegulation  in  the  G-eneral  In- 
terest.' It  is,  when  regarded  in  this  light,  as  painstaking 
and  conclusive  expositions  of  the  ruinous  effects  of  private 
capitalism  upon  the  welfare  of  communities,  that  we  per- 
ceive the  true  use  and  value  of  these  works.  Taking  up  in 
detail  the  various  phenomena  of  the  industrial  and  commer- 
cial world  of  that  day,  with  their  reactions  upon  the  social 
status,  their  authors  show  how  the  results  could  not  have 
been  other  than  they  were,  owing  to  the  laws  of  private  capi- 
talism, and  that  it  was  nothing  but  weak  sentimentalism  to 
suppose  that  while  those  laws  continued  in  operation  any 
different  results  could  be  obtained,  however  good  men's  in- 
tentions. Although  somewhat  heavy  in  style  for  popular 
reading,  I  have  often  thought  that  during  the  revolutionary 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE   OF  THE   PROFIT  SYSTEM.   191 

period  no  documents  could  have  been  better  calculated  to 
convince  rational  men  who  could  be  induced  to  read  them, 
that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  put  an  end  to  private 
capitalism  if  humanity  were  ever  to  get  forward. 

"The  fatal  and  quite  incomprehensible  mistake  of  their 
authors  was  that  they  did  not  themselves  see  this  conclusion 
and  preach  it.  Instead  of  that  they  committed  the  incredi- 
ble blunder  of  accepting  a  set  of  conditions  that  were  mani- 
festly mere  barbaric  survivals  as  the  basis  of  a  social  science 
when  they  ought  easily  to  have  seen  that  the  very  idea  of 
a  scientific  social  order  suggested  the  abolition  of  those  con- 
ditions as  the  first  step  toward  its  realization. 

"  Meanwhile,  as  to  the  present  lesson,  there  are  two  or 
three  points  to  clear  up  before  leaving  it.  We  have  been 
talking  altogether  of  profit  taking,  but  this  was  only  one  of 
the  three  main  methods  by  which  the  capitalists  collected 
the  tribute  from  the  toiling  world  by  which  their  power  was 
acquired  and  maintained.     What  w^ere  the  other  two  ? " 

"  Rent  and  interest." 

"What  was  rent?" 

"  In  those  days,"  replied  George,  "  the  right  to  a  reason- 
able and  equal  allotment  of  land  for  private  uses  did  not 
belong  as  a  matter  of  course  to  every  person  as  it  does  now. 
No  one  was  admitted  to  have  any  natural  right  to  land  at 
all.  On  the  other  hand,  there  was  no  limit  to  the  extent  of 
land,  though  it  were  a  whole  province,  which  any  one  might 
not  legally  possess  if  he  could  get  hold  of  it.  By  natural 
consequence  of  this  arrangement  the  strong  and  cunning 
had  acquired  most  of  the  land,  w^hile  the  majority  of  the 
people  Avere  left  w^ith  none  at  all.  Now,  the  owner  of  the 
land  had  the  right  to  drive  any  one  off  his  land  and  have 
him  punished  for  entering  on  it.  Nevertheless,  the  people 
w^ho  owned  no  land  required  to  have  it  and  to  use  it  and 
must  needs  go  to  the  capitalists  for  it.  Rent  was  the  price 
charged  by  capitalists  for  not  driving  people  off  their  land." 

"  Did  this  rent  represent  any  economic  service  of  any 
sort  rendered  to  the  community  by  the  rent  receiver  ? " 

"So  far  as  regards  the  charge  for  the  use  of  the  land 
itself  apart  from  improvements  it  represented  no  service  of 
any  sort,  nothing  but  the  waiver  for  a  price  of  the  owner's 


192  EQUALITY. 

legal  right  of  ejecting  the  occupant.  It  was  not  a  chr.rge 
for  doing  anything,  but  for  not  doing  something."' 

''  Now  tell  us  about  interest ;  what  was  that  ?  " 

"  Interest  was  the  price  paid  for  the  use  of  money.  Now- 
adays the  collective  administration  directs  the  industrial 
forces  of  the  nation  for  the  general  welfare,  but  in  those  days 
all  economic  enterprises  were  for  private  profit,  and  their  pro- 
jectors had  to  hire  the  labor  they  needed  with  money.  Nat- 
urally^, the  loan  of  so  indispensable  a  means  as  this  com- 
manded a  high  price  ;  that  price  was  interest." 

"And  did  interest  represent  any  economic  service  to  the 
community  on  the  i^art  of  the  interest  taker  in  lending  his 
money  ? " 

"  None  whatever.  On  the  contrary,  it  was  by  the  very 
nature  of  the  transaction  a  waiver  on  the  part  of  the  lender 
of  the  i3ower  of  action  in  favor  of  the  borrower.  It  was  a 
price  charged  for  letting  some  one  else  do  what  the  lender 
might  have  done  but  chose  not  to.  It  was  a  tribute  levied 
by  inaction  upon  action." 

"  If  all  the  landlords  and  money  lenders  had  died  over 
night,  would  it  have  made  any  difference  to  the  world  ? " 

"  None  whatever,  so  long  as  they  left  the  land  and  the 
money  behind.  Their  economic  role  was  a  passive  one,  and 
in  strong  contrast  with  that  of  the  profit-seeking  capitalists, 
which,  for  good  or  bad,  was  at  least  active," 

"  What  was  the  general  effect  of  rent  and  interest  upon 
the  consumption  and  consequently  the  production  of  wealth 
by  the  community  ?  " 

"  It  operated  to  reduce  both." 

"How?" 

"  In  the  same  way  that  profit  taking  did.  Those  who 
received  rent  were  very  few,  those  who  paid  it  were  nearly 
all.  Those  who  received  interest  were  few,  and  those  who 
paid  it  many.  Rent  and  interest  meant,  therefore,  like 
profits,  a  constant  drawing  away  of  the  purchasing  power 
of  the  community  at  large  and  its  concentration  in  the 
hands  of  a  small  part  of  it." 

"  What  have  you  to  say  of  these  three  processes  as  to  their 
comparative  effect  in  destroying  the  consuming  power  of 
the  masses,  and  consequently  the  demand  for  production  ?" 


ECONOMIC  SUICIDE   OF  THE  PROFIT  SYSTEM.   I93 

"  That  differed  in  different  ages  and  countries  according- 
to  the  stage  of  their  economic  development.  Private  capi- 
talism has  been  compared  to  a  three-horned  bull,  the  horns 
being  rent,  profit,  and  interest,  differing  in  comparative 
length  and  strength  according  to  the  age  of  the  animal.  In 
the  United  States,  at  the  time  covered  by  our  lesson,  profits 
were  still  the  longest  of  the  three  horns,  though  the  others 
were  growing  terribly  fast." 

"  We  have  seen,  George,"  said  his  teacher,  ''  that  from  a 
period  long  before  the  great  Revolution  it  was  as  true  as 
it  is  now  that  the  only  limit  to  the  x^roduction  of  wealth 
in  society  was  its  consumption.  We  have  seen  that  what 
kept  the  world  in  poverty  under  private  capitalism  was  the 
effect  of  profits,  aided  by  rent  and  interest  to  reduce  con- 
sumption and  thus  cripple  production,  by  concentrating  the 
purchasing  power  of  the  people  in  the  hands  of  a  few. 
Now,  that  was  the  wrong  way  of  doing  things.  Before 
leaving  the  subject  I  want  you  to  tell  us  in  a  word  what 
is  the  right  way.  Seeing  that  production  is  limited  by 
consumption,  what  rule  must  be  followed  in  distributing 
the  results  of  production  to  be  consumed  in  order  to  de- 
velop consumption  to  the  highest  possible  point,  and  there- 
by in  turn  to  create  the  greatest  possible  demand  for  pro- 
duction." 

"  For  that  purpose  the  results  of  production  must  be  dis- 
tributed equally  among  all  the  members  of  the  producing 
community." 

"  Show  why  that  is  so." 

"  It  is  a  self-evident  mathematical  proposition.  The  more 
people  a  loaf  of  bread  or  any  given  thing  is  divided  among, 
and  the  more  equally  it  is  divided,  the  sooner  it  will  be  con- 
sumed and  more  bread  be  called  for.  To  j)ut  it  in  a  more 
formal  way,  the  needs  of  human  beings  result  from  the 
same  natural  constitution  and  are  substantially  the  same. 
An  equal  distribution  of  the  things  needed  by  them  is  there- 
fore that  general  plan  by  which  the  consumption  of  such 
things  will  be  at  once  enlarged  to  the  greatest  possible  ex- 
tent and  continued  on  that  scale  without  interruption  to  the 
point  of  complete  satisfaction  for  all.  It  follows  that  the 
equal  distribution  of  i^roducts  is  the  rule  by  which  the  largest 


19i  EQUALITY. 

possible  consumption  can  be  secured,  and  thus  in  turn  the 
largest  production  be  stimulated." 

"  What,  on  the  other  hand,  ^vould  be  the  effect  on  con- 
sumption of  an  unequal  division  of  consumable  products  ? " 

"If  the  division  were  unequal,  the  result  would  be  that 
some  would  have  more  than  they  could  consume  in  a  given 
time,  and  others  would  have  less  than  they  could  have 
consumed  in  the  same  time,  the  result  meaning  a  reduction 
of  total  consumption  below  what  it  would  have  been  for 
that  time  with  an  equal  division  of  products.  If  a  million 
dollars  were  equally  divided  among  one  thousand  men,  it 
would  presently  be  wholly  expended  in  the  consumption  of 
needed  things,  creating  a  demand  for  the  production  of  as 
much  more ;  but  if  concentrated  in  one  man's  hands,  not  a 
hundredth  i^art  of  it,  however  great  his  luxury,  would  be 
likely  to  be  so  expended  in  the  same  jDeriod.  The  funda- 
mental general  law  in  the  science  of  social  wealth  is,  there- 
fore, that  the  efficiency  of  a  given  amount  of  purchasing 
power  to  promote  consumption  is  in  exact  proportion  to  its 
wide  distribution,  and  is  most  efficient  wdien  equally  distrib- 
uted among  the  whole  body  of  consumers  because  that  is 
the  widest  possible  distribution.'.' 

''You  have  not  called  attention  to  the  fact  that  the 
formula  of  the  greatest  wealth  production — namely,  equal 
sharing  of  the  product  among  the  community — is  also  that 
application  of  tlie  product  which  will  cause  the  greatest  sum. 
of  human  happiness." 

"  I  spoke  strictly  of  the  economic  side  of  the  subject." 

'•  Would  it  not  have  startled  the  old  economists  to  hear 
that  the  secret  of  the  most  efficient  system  of  wealth  produc- 
tion was  conformity  on  a  national  scale  to  the  ethical  idea 
of  equal  treatment  for  all  embodied  by  Jesus  Christ  in  the 
golden  rule  ? " 

"  No  doubt,  for  they  falsely  taught  that  there  were  two 
kinds  of  science  dealing  with  Piuman  conduct — one  moral, 
the  other  economic  ;  and  two  lines  of  reasoning  as  to  con- 
duct— the  economic,  and  the  ethical ;  both  riglit  in  different 
ways.  We  know  better.  There  can  be  but  one  science  of 
human  conduct  in  whatever  field,  and  that  is  ethical.  Any 
economic  proposition  which  can   not  be  stated  in  ethical 


THE  PARABLE   OP  THE  WATER  TANK.         195 

terms  is  false.  Nothing  can  be  in  the  long  run  or  on  a  large 
scale  sound  economics  which  is  not  sound  ethics.  It  is  not, 
therefore,  a  mere  coincidence,  but  a  logical  necessity,  that 
the  supreme  word  of  both  ethics  and  economics  should 
be  one  and  the  same — equality.  The  golden  rule  in  its 
social  application  is  as  truly  the  secret  of  plenty  as  of 
peace." 


CHAPTEE  XXIII. 

"the  parable  of  the  water  tank." 

"  That  will  do,  George.  We  will  close  the  session  here. 
Our  discussion,  I  find,  has  taken  a  broader  range  than  I 
expected,  and  to  complete  the  subject  we  shall  need  to  have 
a  brief  session  this  afternoon. — xind  now,  hj  way  of  con- 
cluding the  morning,  I  propose  to  offer  a  little  contribution 
of  my  own.  The  other  day,  at  the  museum,  I  was  delving 
among  the  relics  of  literature  of  the  great  Revolution,  with  a 
view  to  finding  something  that  might  illustrate  our  theme. 
I  came  across  a  little  j^amphlet  of  the  period,  yellow  and 
almost  undecipherable,  which,  on  examination,  I  found  to 
be  a  rather  amusing  skit  or  satirical  take-off  on  the  profit 
sj^stem.  It  struck  me  that  probably  our  lesson  might  pre- 
pare us  to  appreciate  it,  and  I  made  a  copy.  It  is  entitled 
"  The  Parable  of  the  Water  Tank,"  and  runs  this  way : 

"  '  There  w^as  a  certain  very  dry  land,  the  people  whereof 
were  in  sore  need  of  water.  And  they  did  nothing  but  to 
seek  after  water  from  morning  until  night,  and  many  per- 
ished because  they  could  not  find  it. 

"  '  Howbeit,  there  were  certain  men  in  that  land  who 
were  more  craftj^  and  diligent  than  the  rest,  and  these  had 
gathered  stores  of  water  where  others  could  find  none,  and 
the  name  of  these  men  was  called  capitalists.  And  it  came 
to  pass  that  the  people  of  the  land  came  unto  the  capitalists 
and  prayed  them  that  they  would  give  them  of  the  water 
they  had  gathered  that  they  might  drink,  for  their  need  was 
sore.    But  the  capitalists  answered  them  and  said  : 


196  EQUALITY. 

"  '  "  Go  to,  ye  silly  people  !  why  should  we  give  you  of  the 
water  which  we  have  gathered,  for  then  we  should  become 
even  as  ye  are,  and  perish  with  you  ?  But  behold  what 
we  will  do  unto  you.  Be  ye  our  servants  and  ye  shall  have 
water." 

"  'And  the  people  said,  "Only  give  us  to  drink  and  we 
will  be  your  servants,  we  and  our  children."    And  it  was  so. 

"  '  Now,  the  capitalists  were  men  of  understanding,  and 
wise  in  their  generation.  They  ordered  the  people  who 
were  their  servants  in  bands  with  captains  and  officers,  and 
some  they  put  at  the  springs  to  dip,  and  others  did  they  make 
to  carry  the  water,  and  others  did  they  cause  to  seek  for  new 
springs.  And  all  the  water  was  brought  together  in  one 
place,  and  there  did  the  capitalists  make  a  great  tank  for  to 
hold  it,  and  the  tank  was  called  the  Market,  for  it  was  there 
that  the  people,  even  the  servants  of  the  capitalists,  came  to 
get  water.     And  the  capitalists  said  unto  the  ijeople : 

"  '  "  For  every  bucket  of  water  that  ye  bring  to  us,  that  we 
may  pour  it  into  the  tank,  which  is  the  Market,  behold  !  we 
will  give  you  a  penny,  but  for  every  bucket  that  we  shall 
draw  forth  to  give  unto  you  that  ye  may  drink  of  it,  ye 
and  your  wives  and  your  children,  ye  shall  give  to  us  two 
pennies,  and  the  difference  shall  be  our  profit,  seeing  that  if 
it  were  not  for  this  profit  we  would  not  do  this  thing  for 
you,  but  ye  should  all  perish." 

"  'And  it  was  good  in  the  people's  eyes,  for  they  were  dull 
of  understanding,  and  they  diligently  brought  water  unto 
the  tank  for  many  days,  and  for  every  bucket  which  they 
did  bring  the  capitalists  gave  them  every  man  a  penny ;  but 
for  every  bucket  that  the  capitalists  di'ew  forth  from  the 
tank  to  give  again  unto  the  people,  behold  !  the  people  ren- 
dered to  the  capitalists  two  pennies. 

"  '  And  after  many  days  the  water  tank,  which  was  the 
Market,  overflowed  at  the  top,  seeing  that  for  every  bucket 
the  people  poured  in  they  received  only  so  much  as  would 
buy  again  half  of  a  bucket.  And  because  of  the  excess  that 
was  left  of  every  bucket,  did  the  tank  overflow,  for  the 
people  were  many,  but  the  capitalists  were  few,  and  could 
drink  no  more  than  others.  Therefore  did  the  tank  over- 
flow. 


THE   PARABLE   OP  THE  WATER  TANK.         I97 

"  'And  when  the  capitalists  saw  that  the  water  overflowed, 
they  said  to  the  i^eople  : 

"  '  "  See  ye  not  the  tank,  w^hich  is  the  Market,  doth  over- 
flow^ ?  Sit  ye  down,  therefore  and  be  patient,  for  ye  shaH 
bring  us  no  more  water  tiH  the  tank  be  empty." 

"  '  But  when  the  people  no  more  received  the  i3ennies  of 
the  capitalists  for  the  w^ater  they  brought,  they  could  buy  no 
more  water  from  the  capitalists,  having  naught  wherewith 
to  buy.  And  w^hen  the  capitalists  saw  that  they  had  no 
more  profit  because  no  man  bought  w^ater  of  them,  they 
w^ere  troubled.  And  they  sent  forth  men  in  the  highways, 
the  byways,  and  the  hedges,  crying,  "  If  any  thirst  let  him 
come  to  the  tank  and  buy  water  of  us,  for  it  doth  overflow." 
For  they  said  among  themselves,  "Behold,  the  times  are 
dull ;  we  must  advertise." 

"  '  But  the  people  answered,  saying  :  "How  can  w^e  buy 
unless  ye  hire  us,  for  how^  else  shall  we  have  w^herewithal  to 
buy  ?  Hire  ye  us,  therefore,  as  before,  and  we  will  gladly 
buy  water,  for  we  thirst,  and  ye  w^ill  have  no  need  to  adver- 
tise." But  the  capitalists  said  to  the  people  :  "  Shall  w^e  hire 
you  to  bring  water  when  the  tank,  w^hich  is  the  Market, 
doth  already  overflow^  ?  Buy  ye,  therefore,  first  w^ater,  and 
when  the  tank  is  empty,  through  your  buying,  will  we  hire 
you  again."  And  so  it  w^as  because  the  capitalists  hired 
them  no  more  to  bring  water  that  the  people  could  not  buy 
the  water  they  had  brought  already,  and  because  the  people 
could  not  buy  the  water  they  had  brought  already,  the  capi- 
talists no  more  hired  them  to  bring  water.  And  the  say- 
ing w^ent  abroad,  ''  It  is  a  crisis." 

"  'And  the  thirst  of  the  people  was  great,  for  it  was  not 
now  as  it  had  been,  in  the  days  of  their  fathers,  when  the 
land  was  open  before  them,  for  every  one  to  seek  water  for 
himself,  seeing  that  the  capitalists  had  taken  all  the  springs, 
and  the  w^ells,  and  the  water  wheels,  and  the  vessels  and  the 
buckets,  so  that  no  man  might  come  by  water  save  from  the 
tank,  which  was  the  Market.  And  the  people  murmured 
against  the  capitalists  and  said :  "  Behold,  the  tank  runneth 
over,  and  we  die  of  thirst.  Give  us,  therefore,  of  the  water, 
that  we  perish  not." 

"  '  But  the  capitalists  answ^ered :  ''  Not  so.  The  water  is 
14 


19S  EQUALITY. 

ours.  Ye  shall  not  drink  thereof  unless  ye  buy  it  of  us  with 
pennies/'  And  they  confirmed  it  with  an  oath,  saying, 
after  their  manner,  "  Business  is  business." 

" '  But  the  capitalists  were  disquieted  that  the  people 
bought  no  more  water,  whereby  they  had  no  more  any 
profits,  and  they  spake  one  to  another,  saying :  "  It  seeraeth 
that  our  profits  have  stopped  our  profits,  and  by  reason  of 
the  profits  we  have  made,  we  can  make  no  more  profits. 
How^  is  it  that  our  profits  are  become  unprofitable  to  us,  and 
our  gains  do  make  us  poor  ?  Let  us  therefore  send  for  the 
soothsayers,  that  they  may  interpret  this  thing  unto  us,''  and 
they  sent  for  them. 

"  '  Now,  the  soothsayers  were  men  learned  in  dark  say- 
ings, who  joined  themselves  to  the  capitalists  by  reason  of 
the  water  of  the  capitalists,  that  they  might  have  thereof 
and  live,  they  and  their  children.  And  they  spake  for  the 
capitalists  unto  the  people,  and  did  their  embassies  for  them, 
seeing  that  the  capitalists  were  not  a  folk  quick  of  under- 
standing neither  ready  of  speech. 

"  'And  the  capitalists  demanded  of  the  soothsayers  that 
they  should  interpret  this  thing  unto  them,  wherefore  it  was 
that  the  people  bought  no  more  w^ater  of  them,  although  the 
tank  was  full.  And  certain  of  the  soothsayers  answered 
and  said,  "It  is  by  reason  of  overproduction,"  and  some 
said,  "  It  is  glut "  ;  but  the  signification  of  the  two  words  is 
the  same.  And  others  said,  "  Nay,  but  this  thing  is  by  rea- 
son of  the  spots  on  the  sun."  And  yet  others  answered, 
saying,  "  It  is  neither  by  reason  of  glut,  nor  yet  of  spots  on 
the  sun  that  this  evil  hath  come  to  pass,  but  because  of  lack 
of  confidence." 

"'And  while  the  soothsayers  contended  among  them- 
selves, according  to  their  manner,  the  men  of  profit  did 
slumber  and  sleep,  and  when  they  awoke  they  said  to  the 
soothsayers :  "  It  is  enough.  Ye  have  spoken  comfortably  unto 
us.  Now  go  ye  forth  and  speak  comfortably  likewise  unto 
this  people,  so  that  they  be  at  rest  and  leave  us  also  in  peace." 

"  '  But  the  soothsayers,  even  the  men  of  the  dismal  sci- 
ence— for  so  they  were  named  of  some — were  loath  to  go 
forth  to  the  people  lest  they  should  be  stoned,  for  the  people 
loved  them  not.     And  they  said  to  the  capitalists : 


THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  WATER  TANK.         199 

"  ' "  Masters,  it  is  a  mystery  of  our  craft  that  if  men  bo 
fuU  and  thirst  not  but  be  at  rest,  then  shaH  they  find  comfort 
in  our  speech  even  as  ye.  Yet  if  they  thirst  and  be  empty, 
find  they  no  comfort  therein  but  ratlier  mock  us,  for  it 
seemeth  that  unless  a  man  be  fuU  our  v/isdom  appeareth 
unto  him  but  emptiness."  But  the  capitalists  said  :  "  Go  ye 
forth.     Are  ye  not  our  men  to  do  our  embassies  ? " 

"  '  And  the  soothsayers  went  forth  to  the  people  and  ex- 
pounded to  them  the  mystery  of  overproduction,  and  how- 
it  was  that  they  must  needs  perish  of  thirst  because  there 
was  overmuch  water,  and  how^  there  could  not  be  enough 
because  there  was  too  much.     And  likewise  spoke  they  unto 
the  people  concerning  the  sun  spots,  and  also  w^herefore  it 
was  that  these  things  had  come  upon  them  by  reason  of  lack 
of  confidence.     And  it  was  even  as  the  soothsayers  had  said, 
for  to  the  people  their  wisdom  seemed  emptiness.     And  the 
people  reviled  them,  saying  :  "  Go  up,  ye  bald-heads  !    Will 
ve  mock  us  ?    Doth  plenty  breed  famine  ?    Doth  nothing 
com3  out  of  much  ? "    And  they  took  up  stones  to  stone  them. 
"  '  And  wdien  the  capitalists  saw  that  the  people  still  mur- 
mured and  w^ould  not  give  ear  to  the  soothsayers,  and  be- 
cause also  they  feared  lest  they  should  come  upon  the  tank 
and  take  of  the  water  by  force,  they  brought  forth  to  them 
certain  holy  men  (but  they  were  false  priests),  who  spake 
unto  the  people  that  they  should  be  quiet  and  trouble  not 
tlie  capitalists  because  they  thirsted.     And  these  holy  men, 
wdio  were   false   priests,   testified    to   the  people   that   this 
affliction  was  sent  to  them  of  God  for  the  healing  of  their 
souls,  and  that  if  they  should  bear  it  in  patience  and  lust 
not  after  the  w^ater,  neither  trouble  the  capitalists,  it  would 
come  to  pass  that  after  they  had  given  up  the  ghost  they 
would  come  to  a  country  where  there  should  be  no  capital- 
ists but  an  abundance  of  w^ater.     Howbeit,  there  were  cer- 
tain true  prophets  of  God  also,  and  these  had  compassion  on 
the  people  and  \vould  not  prophesy  for  the  capitalists,  but 
rather  spake  constantly  against  them. 

"  '  Now,  w^hen  the  capitalists  saw  that  the  people  still  mur- 
mured and  would  not  be  still,  neither  for  the  words  of  the 
soothsayers  nor  of  the  false  priests,  they  came  forth  them- 
selves unto  them  and  put  the  ends  of  their  fingers  in  the 


200  EQUALITY. 

water  that  overflowed  in  the  tank  and  wet  the  tips  thereof, 
and  they  scattered  the  drops  from  the  tips  of  their  fingers 
abroad  upon  the  people  who  thronged  the  tank,  and  the 
name  of  the  drops  of  water  was  charity,  and  they  were  ex- 
ceeding bitter. 

"  'And  when  the  capitalists  saw  yet  again  that  neither  for 
the  words  of  the  soothsayers,  nor  of  the  holy  men  who  were 
false  priests,  nor  yet  for  the  drops  that  were  called  charity, 
would  the  people  be  still,  but  raged  the  more,  and  crowded 
upon  the  tank  as  if  they  would  take  it  by  force,  then  took 
they  counsel  together  and  sent  men  privily  forth  among  the 
people.  And  these  men  sought  out  the  mightiest  among  the 
people  and  all  who  had  skill  in  war,  and  took  them  apart 
and  spake  craftily  with  them,  saying  : 

"  '  "  Come,  now,  why  cast  ye  not  your  lot  in  with  the 
capitalists  ?  If  ye  will  be  their  men  and  serve  them  against 
the  people,  that  they  break  not  in  upon  the  tank,  then  shall 
ye  have  abundance  of  water,  that  ye  perish  not,  ye  and  your 
children." 

" '  And  the  mighty  men  and  they  who  were  skilled  in 
war  hearkened  unto  this  speech  and  suffered  themselves  to  be 
persuaded,  for  their  thirst  constrained  them,  and  they  went 
within  unto  the  capitalists  and  became  their  men,  and  staves 
and  swords  were  put  in  their  hands  and  they  became  a  de- 
fense unto  the  capitalists  and  smote  the  people  when  they 
thronged  upon  the  tank. 

"  '  And  after  many  days  the  water  was  low  in  the  tank, 
for  the  capitalists  did  make  fountains  and  fish  ponds  of  the 
water  thereof,  and  did  bathe  therein,  they  and  their  wives 
and  their  children,  and  did  waste  the  water  for  their 
pleasure. 

'''And  when  the  capitalists  saw  that  the  tank  was 
empty,  they  said,  "  The  crisis  is  ended  "  ;  and  they  sent  forth 
and  hired  the  people  that  they  should  bring  water  to  fill  it 
again.  And  for  the  water  that  the  people  brought  to  the 
tank  they  received  for  every  bucket  a  penny,  but  for  the 
water  which  the  capitalists  drew  forth  from  the  tank  to 
give  again  to  the  people  they  received  two  pennies,  that  they 
might  have  their  profit.  And  after  a  time  did  the  tank 
asrain  overflow  even  as  before. 


THE   PARABLE   OF   THE   WATER   TANK,  201 

"  'And  now,  when  many  times  the  people  had  filled  the 
tank  until  it  overflowed  and  had  thirsted  till  the  water 
therein  had  been  wasted  by  the  capitalists,  it  came  to  pass 
that  there  arose  in  the  land  certain  men  who  were  called 
agitatoi's,  for  that  they  did  stir  up  the  people.  And  they 
spake  to  the  people,  saying  that  they  should  associate,  and 
then  would  they  have  no  need  to  be  servants  of  the  capital- 
ists and  should  thirst  no  more  for  water.  And  in  the  eyes 
of  the  capitalists  were  the  agitators  pestilent  fellows,  and 
they  would  fain  have  crucified  them,  but  durst  not  for  fear 
of  the  people. 

'' '  And  the  words  of  the  agitators  which  tliey  si)ake  to  the 
people  were  on  this  wise  : 

..  t  u  Ye  foolish  people,  how  long  will  ye  be  deceived  by  a 
lie  and  believe  to  your  hurt  that  which  is  not  ?  for  behold  all 
these  things  that  have  been  said  unto  you  by  the  capitalists 
and  by  the  soothsayers  are  cunningly  devised  fables.  And 
likewise  the  holy  men,  who  say  -that  it  is  the  will  of  God 
that  ye  should  always  be  poor  and  miserable  and  athirst, 
behold !  they  do  blaspheme  God  and  are  liars,  whom  he 
will  bitterly  judge  though  he  forgive  all  others.  How 
cometh  it  that  ye  may  not  come  by  the  water  in  the  tank  ? 
Is  it  not  because  ye  have  no  money  ?  And  whj-  have  ye 
no  money  ?  Is  it  not  because  ye  receive  but  one  penny  for 
every  bucket  that  ye  bring  to  the  tank,  which  is  the  Mar- 
ket, but  must  render  two  pennies  for  every  bucket  ye  take 
out,  so  that  the  capitalists  may  have  their  i^rofit  ?  See  ye 
not  how  by  this  means  the  tank  must  overflow,  being  filled 
by  that  ye  lack  and  made  to  abound  out  of  your  emptiness  ? 
See  ye  not  also  that  the  harder  ye  toil  and  the  more  diligent- 
ly ye  seek  and  bring  the  water,  the  worse  and  not  the  better 
it  shall  be  for  you  by  reason  of  the  profit,  and  that  forever  ? " 

"  'After  this  manner  spake  the  agitators  for  many  days 
unto  the  people,  and  none  heeded  them,  but  it  was  so  that 
after  a  time  the  people  hearkened.  And  they  answered  and 
said  unto  the  agitators  : 

"  '  "  Ye  say  truth.  It  is  because  of  the  capitalists  and  of 
their  profits  that  we  want,  seeing  that  hj  reason  of  them 
and  their  profits  we  may  by  no  means  come  by  the  fruit  of 
our  labor,  so  that  our  labor  is  in  vain,  and  the  more  we 


202  EQUALITY. 

toil  to  fill  the  tank  the  sooner  doth  it  overflow,  and  we 
may  receive  nothing  because  there  is  too  much,  according 
to  the  words  of  the  soothsayers.  But  behold,  the  capitalists 
are  hard  men  and  their  tender  mercies  are  ci'uel.  Tell  us 
if  ye  know  any  way  whereby  we  may  deliver  ourselves  out 
of  our  bondage  unto  them.  But  if  ye  know  of  no  certain 
way  of  deliverance  we  beseech  you  to  hold  your  peace  and 
let  us  alone,  that  we  may  forget  our  misery." 

"  '  And  the  agitators  answered  and  said,  "  We  know  a 
way." 

"  'And  the  people  said  :  ''  Deceive  us  not,  for  this  thing 
hath  been  from  the  beginning,  and  none  hath  found  a  way 
of  deliverance  until  now,  though  many  have  sought  it  care- 
fully with  tears.  But  if  ye  know  a  way,  speak  unto  us 
quickly." 

"  '  Then  the  agitators  spake  unto  the  peox:)le  of  the  way. 
And  they  said  : 

"  '  "  Behold,  Avhat  need  have  ye  at  all  of  these  capitalists, 
that  ye  should  yield  them  profits  upon  your  labor  ?  What 
great  thing  do  they  wherefore  ye  render  them  this  tribute  ? 
Lo !  it  is  only  because  they  do  order  you  in  bands  and  lead 
you  out  and  in  and  set  your  tasks  and  afterward  give  you 
a  little  of  the  water  yourselves  have  brought  and  not  they. 
Now,  behold  the  way  out  of  this  bondage !  Do  ye  for  your- 
selves that  which  is  done  by  the  capitalists — namely,  the 
ordering  of  your  labor,  and  the  marshaling  of  your  bands, 
and  the  dividing  of  your  tasks.  So  shall  ye  have  no  need 
at  all  of  the  capitalists  and  no  more  yield  to  them  any 
profit,  but  all  the  fruit  of  your  labor  shall  ye  share  as 
brethren,  every  one  having  the  same  ;  and  so  shall  the  tank 
never  overflow  until  every  man  is  full,  and  would  not  wag 
the  tongue  for  more,  and  afterward  shall  ye  with  the  over- 
flow make  pleasant  fountains  and  fish  ponds  to  delight  your- 
selves withal  even  as  did  the  capitalists ;  but  these  shall  be 
for  the  delight  of  all." 

"  'And  the  people  answered,  "How  shall  we  go  about  to 
do  this  thing,  for  it  seemeth  good  to  us  ? " 

"  'And  the  agitators  answered  :  "  Choose  ye  discreet  men 
to  go  in  and  out  before  you  and  to  marshal  your  bands  and 
order  your  labor,  and  these  men  shall  be  as  the  capitalists 


THE   PARABLE  OF  THE   WATER  TANK.         203 

were ;  but,  behold,  they  shaU  not  be  your  masters  as  the 
capitalists  are,  but  your  brethren  and  officers  who  do  your 
will,  and  they  shall  not  take  any  profits,  but  every  man  his 
share  like  the  others,  that  there  may  be  no  more  masters  and 
servants  among-  you,  but  brethren  only.  And  from  time  to 
time,  as  ye  see  tit,  ye  shall  choose  other  discreet  men  in  place 
of  the  first  to  order  the  labor." 

"  '  And  the  people  hearkened,  and  the  thing  was  very  good 
to  them.  Likewise  seemed  it  not  a  hard  thing.  And  with 
one  voice  they  cried  out,  "'  So  let  it  be  as  ye  have  said,  for 
we  will  do  it ! " 

"  '  And  the  capitalists  heard  the  noise  of  the  shouting  and 
what  the  people  said,  and  the  soothsayers  heard  it  also,  and 
likewise  the  false  priests  and  the  mighty  men  of  war,  who 
were  a  defense  unto  the  capitalists ;  and  when  they  heard 
they  trembled  exceedingly,  so  that  their  knees  smote  to- 
gether, and  they  said  one  to  another,  "  It  is  the  end  of  us  ! " 

"  '  Howbeit,  there  were  certain  true  priests  of  the  living 
God  who  would  not  prophesy  for  the  capitalists,  but  had 
compassion  on  the  people ;  and  when  they  heard  the  shouting 
of  the  people  and  what  they  said,  they  rejoiced  with  exceed- 
ing great  joy,  and  gave  thanks  to  Grod  because  of  the  de- 
liverance. 

"  '  And  the  people  went  and  did  all  the  things  that  were 
told  them  of  the  agitators  to  do.  And  it  came  to  pass  as 
the  agitators  had  said,  even  according  to  all  their  words. 
And  there  was  no  more  any  thirst  in  that  land,  neither  any 
that  was  ahungered,  nor  naked,  nor  cold,  nor  in  any  manner 
of  want ;  and  every  man  said  unto  his  fellow,  "  My  brother," 
and  every  woman  said  unto  her  companion,  "  My  sister," 
for  so  were  they  with  one  another  as  brethren  and  sisters 
which  do  dwell  together  in  unity.  And  the  blessing  of  God 
rested  upon  that  land  forever.'  " 


204  EQUALITY. 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

I  AM  SHOWN  ALL   THE   KINGDOMS  OF  THE   EARTH. 

The  boys  and  g-irls  of  the  political-economy  class  rose  to 
their  feet  at  the  teacher's  word  of  dismissal,  and  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye  the  scene  which  had  been  absorbing 
my  attention  disappeared,  and  I  found  myself  staring  at  Dr. 
Leete's  smiling  countenance  and  endeavoring  to  imagine 
how  I  had  come  to  be  where  I  was.  During  the  greater 
part  and  all  the  latter  part  of  the  session  of  the  class  so  ab- 
solute had  been  the  illusion  of  being  actually  present  in  the 
schoolroom,  and  so  absorbing  the  interest  of  the  theme,  that 
I  had  quite  forgotten  the  extraordinary  device  by  which  I 
was  enabled  to  see  and  hear  the  proceedings.  Now,  as  I  re- 
called it,  my  mind  reverted  with  an  impulse  of  boundless 
curiosity  to  the  electroscope  and  the  processes  by  which  it 
performed  its  miracles. 

Having  given  me  some  explanation  of  the  mechanical 
operation  of  the  apparatus  and  the  way  in  which  it  served 
the  purpose  of  a  prolonged  optic  nerve,  the  doctor  went  on 
to  exhibit  its  powers  on  a  large  scale.  During  the  follow- 
ing hour,  without  leaving  my  chair,  I  made  the  tour  of  the 
earth,  and  learned  by  the  testimony  of  my  senses  that  the 
transformation  which  had  come  over  Boston  since  my  for- 
mer life  was  but  a  sample  of  that  which  the  whole  world  of 
men  had  undergone.  I  had  but  to  name  a  great  city  or  a 
famous  locality  in  any  country  to  be  at  once  present  there 
so  far  as  sight  and  hearing  were  concerned.  I  looked  down 
on  modern  New  York,  then  upon  Chicago,  upon  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  upon  New  Orleans,  finding  each  of  these  cities 
quite  unrecognizable  but  for  the  natural  features  which 
constituted  their  setting.  I  visited  London.  I  heard  the 
Parisians  talk  French  and  the  Berlinese  talk  German,  and 
from  St.  Petersburg  went  to  Cairo  by  way  of  Delhi.  One 
city  would  be  bathed  in  the  noonday  sun ;  over  the  next  I 
visited,  the  moon,  perhaps,  was  rising  and  the  stars  coming 
out ;  while  over  the  third  the  silence  of  midnight  brooded. 
In  Paris,  I  remember,  it  was  raining  hard,  and  in  London 
fog  reigned  supreme.     In  St.  Petersburg  there  was  a  snow 


ALL  THE  KINGDOMS  OF  THE  EARTH.  205 

squall.  Turning  from  the  contemplation  of  the  changing 
world  of  men  to  the  changeless  face  of  Nature,  I  renewed 
my  old-time  acquaintance  with  the  natural  wonders  of  the 
earth — the  thundering  cataracts,  the  stormy  ocean  shores, 
the  lonely  mountain  tops,  the  great  rivers,  the  glittering 
splendors  of  the  polar  regions,  and  the  desolate  places  of 
the  deserts. 

Meanwhile  the  doctor  explained  to  me  that  not  only  the 
telephone  and  electroscope  were  always  connected  with  a 
great  number  of  regular  stations  commanding  all  scenes  of 
special  interest,  but  that  whenever  in  any  part  of  the  world 
there  occurred  a  spectacle  or  accident  of  particular  interest, 
special  connections  were  instantly  made,  so  that  all  man- 
kind could  at  once  see  what  the  situation  was  for  themselves 
without  need  of  actual  or  alleged  special  artists  on  the  spot. 

With  all  my  concei^tions  of  time  and  space  reduced  to 
chaos,  and  well-nigh  drunk  with  wonder,  I  exclaimed  at  last : 

"  I  can  stand  no  more  of  this  just  now !  I  am  beginning 
to  doubt  seriously  whether  I  am  in  or  out  of  the  body." 

As  a  practical  way  of  settling  that  question  the  doctor 
proposed  a  brisk  walk,  for  we  had  not  been  out  of  the  house 
that  morning. 

"  Have  we  had  enough  of  economics  for  the  day  ? "  he 
asked  as  we  left  the  house,  "  or  would  you  like  to  attend  the 
afternoon  session  the  teacher  spoke  of  ? " 

I  replied  that  I  wished  to  attend  it  by  all  means. 

"Very  good,"  said  the  doctor ;  "  it  will  doubtless  be  very 
short,  and  what  do  you  say  to  attending  it  this  time  in  per- 
son ?  We  shall  have  plenty  of  time  for  our  walk  and  can 
easily  get  to  the  school  before  the  hour  by  taking  a  car  from 
any  point.  Seeing  this  is  the  first  time  you  have  used  the 
electroscope,  and  have  no  assurance  except  its  testimony  that 
any  such  school  or  pupils  really  exist,  perhaps  it  would  help 
to  confirm  any  impressions  you  may  have  received  to  visit 
the  spot  in  the  body." 


206  EQUALITY. 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE   STRIKERS. 

Presently,  as  we  were  crossing  Boston  Common,  ab- 
sorbed in  conversation,  a  shadow  fell  athwart  the  way,  and 
looking  up,  I  saw  towering  above  us  a  sculptured  group  of 
heroic  size. 

"  Who  are  these  ?  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  You  ought  to  know  if  any  one,"  said  the  doctor.  "  They 
are  contemporaries  of  yours  who  were  making  a  good  deal 
of  disturbance  in  your  day." 

But,  indeed,  it  had  only  been  as  an  involuntary  expres- 
sion of  surprise  that  I  had  questioned  what  the  figures 
stood  for. 

Let  me  tell  you,  readers  of  tlie  twentieth  century,  what  I 
saw  up  there  on  the  pedestal,  and  you  will  recognize  the 
world-famous  group.  Shoulder  to  shoulder,  as  if  rallied  to 
resist  assault,  were  three  figures  of  men  in  the  garb  of  the 
laboring  class  of  my  time.  They  were  bareheaded,  and 
their  coarse-textured  shirts,  rolled  above  the  elbow  and  open 
at  the  breast,  showed  the  sinewy  arms  and  chest.  Before 
them,  on  the  ground,  lay  a  pair  of  shovels  and  a  pickaxe. 
The  central  figure,  with  the  right  hand  extended,  palm  out- 
ward, was  pointing  to  the  discarded  tools.  The  arms  of  the 
other  two  were  folded  on  their  breasts.  The  faces  were 
coarse  and  hard  in  outline  and  bristled  with  unkempt 
beards.  Their  expression  was  one  of  dogged  defiance,  and 
their  gaze  was  fixed  with  such  scowling  intensity  upon  the 
void  space  before  them  that  I  involuntarily  glanced  behind 
me  to  see  what  they  were  looking  at.  There  were  two 
women  also  in  the  grouj),  as  coarse  of  dress  and  features  as 
the  men.  One  was  kneeling  before  the  figure  on  the  right, 
holding  up  to  him  with  one  arm  an  emaciated,  half-clad 
infant,  while  with  the  other  she  indicated  the  implements 
at  his  feet  with  an  imploring  gesture.  The  second  of  the 
women  was  i^lucking  by  the  sleeve  the  man  on  the  left  as  if 
to  draw  him  back,  while  with  the  other  hand  she  covered 
her  eyes.  But  the  men  heeded  the  women  not  at  all,  or 
seemed,  in  their  bitter  wrath,  to  know  that  they  were  there. 


THE  STRIKERS.  207 

"  "Why,"  I  exclaimed,  "-these  are  strikers  ! " 

"Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  "this  is  The  Strikers,  Hunting-- 
ton's  masterpiece,  considered  the  greatest  group  of  statuary 
in  the  city  and  one  of  the  greatest  in  the  country." 

"  Those  people  are  alive  !  "  I  said. 

"  That  is  expert  testimony,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  It  is  a 
pity  Huntington  died  too  soon  to  hear  it.  He  would  have 
been  pleased." 

Now,  I,  in  common  with  the  wealthy  and  cultured  class 
generally,  of  my  day,  had  always  held  strikers  in  contempt 
and  abhorrence,  as  blundering,  dangerous  marplots,  as  igno- 
rant of  their  own  best  interests  as  they  were  reckless  of 
other  people's,  and  generally  as  pestilent  fellows,  whose 
demonstrations,  so  long  as  they  were  not  violent,  could  not 
unfortunately  be  repressed  by  force,  but  ought  always  to  be 
condemned,  and  promptly  put  down  with  an  iron  hand  the 
moment  there  was  an  excuse  for  police  interference.  There 
was  more  or  less  tolerance  among  the  well-to-do,  for  social 
reformers,  who,  by  book  or  voice,  advocated  even  very  rad- 
ical economic  changes  so  long  as  they  observed  the  conven- 
tionalities of  speech,  but  for  the  striker  there  were  few  apolo- 
gists. Of  course,  the  capitalists  emptied  on  him  the  vials  of 
their  wrath  and  contempt,  and  even  people  who  thought 
they  sympathized  with  the  working  class  shook  their  heads 
at  the  mention  of  strikes,  regarding  them  as  calculated  rather 
to  hinder  than  help  the  emancipation  of  labor.  Bred  as  I  was 
in  these  prejudices,  it  may  not  seem  strange  that  I  was  taken 
aback  at  finding  such  unpromising  subjects  selected  for  the 
highest  place  in  the  city. 

"  There  is  no  doubt  as  to  the  excellence  of  the  artist's 
work,"  I  said,  "but  what  was  there  about  the  strikers  that 
has  made  you  pick  them  out  of  our  generation  as  objects  of 
veneration  ? " 

"  We  see  in  them,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  the  pioneers  in  the 
revolt  against  private  capitalism  which  brought  in  the  pres- 
ent civilization.  We  honor  them  as  those  who,  like  Winkel- 
ried,  '  made  way  for  liberty,  and  died.'  We  revere  in  them 
the  protomartjTS  of  co-operative  industry  and  economic 
equality." 

"  But  I  can  assure  you,  doctor,  that  these  fellows,  at  least 


208  EQUALITY. 

in  my  day,  had  not  the  slightest  idea  of  revolting  against 
private  capitalism  as  a  sj- stem.  They  were  very  ignorant 
and  quite  incapable  of  grasping  so  large  c  conception. 
They  had  no  notion  of  getting  along  without  capitalists. 
All  they  imagined  as  possible  or  desirable  was  a  little 
better  treatment  by  their  employers,  a  few  cents  more  an 
hour,  a  few  minutes  less  working  time  a  day,  or  maybe 
merely  the  discharge  of  an  unpopular  foreman.  The  most 
they  aimed  at  was  some  petty  imx3rovement  in  their  con- 
dition, to  attain  which  they  did  not  hesitate  to  throw  the 
whole  industrial  machine  into  disorder." 

"All  which  we  moderns  know  quite  w^ell,'' replied  the 
doctor.  "  Look  at  those  faces.  Has  the  sculptor  idealized 
them  ?  Are  they  the  faces  of  philosophers  ?  Do  they  not 
bear  out  your  statement  that  the  strikers,  like  the  w^orking- 
men  generally,  w^ere,  as  a  rule,  ignorant,  narrows-minded 
men,  with  no  grasp  of  large  questions,  and  incapable  of  so 
great  an  idea  as  the  overthrow  of  an  immemorial  economic 
order  ?  It  is  quite  true  that  until  some  years  after  you  fell 
asleep  they  did  not  realize  that  their  quarrel  was  with  pri- 
vate capitalism  and  not  wdth  individual  capitalists.  In  this 
slowness  of  aw^akening  to  the  full  meaning  of  their  revolt 
they  were  precisely  on  a  par  with  the  pioneers  of  all  the 
great  liberty  revolutions.  The  minutemen  at  Concord  and 
Lexington,  in  1775,  did  not  realize  that  they  w^ere  pointing 
their  guns  at  the  monarchical  idea.  As  little  did  the  third 
estate  of  France,  when  it  entered  the  Convention  in  1789, 
realize  that  its  road  lay  over  the  ruins  of  the  throne.  As 
little  did  the  pioneers  of  English  freedom,  when  they  began 
to  resist  the  will  of  Charles  I,  foresee  that  they  would  be  com- 
pelled, before  they  got  through,  to  take  his  head.  In  none 
of  these  instances,  how-ever,  has  posterity  considered  that  the 
limited  foresight  of  the  pioneers  as  to  the  full  consequences 
of  their  action  lessened  the  world's  debt  to  the  crude  initia- 
tive, without  which  the  fuller  triumph  would  never  have 
come.  The  logic  of  the  strike  meant  the  overthrow  of  the 
irresponsible  conduct  of  industry,  whether  the  strikers  knew 
it  or  not,  and  we  can  not  rejoice  in  the  consequences  of 
that  overthrow  without  honoring  them  in  a  way  which  very 
likely,  as  you  intimate,  w^ould  surprise  them,  could  they 


THE   STRIKERS.  209 

know  of  it,  as  much  as  it  does  you.  Let  me  try  to  give  you 
the  modern  point  of  view  as  to  the  part  played  by  their  origi- 
nals.'' We  sat  down  upon  one  of  the  benches  before  the 
statue,  and  the  doctor  went  on  : 

"  My  dear  Julian,  who  was  it,  pray,  that  first  roused  the 
.  world  of  your  day  to  the  fact  that  there  was  an  industrial 
question,  and  by  their  pathetic  demonstrations  of  passive 
resistance  to  wrong  for  fifty  years  kept  the  public  attention 
fixed  on  that  question  till  it  was  settled  ?  Was  it  your 
statesmen,  perchance  your  economists,  your  scholars,  or  any 
other  of  your  so-called  wise  men  ?  No.  It  was  just  those 
despised,  ridiculed,  cursed,  and  hooted  fellows  up  there  on 
that  pedestal  wiio  with  their  perpetual  strikes  would  not  let 
the  world  rest  till  their  wrong,  which  was  also  the  whole 
world's  wrong,  was  righted.  Once  more  had  God  chosen 
the  foolish  things  of  this  world  to  confound  the  wise,  the 
weak  things  to  confound  the  mighty. 

"In  order  to  realize  how  powerfully  these  strikes  oper- 
ated to  impress  upon  the  people  the  intolerable  wickedness 
and  folly  of  private  capitalism,  you  must  remember  that 
ev^ents  are  what  teach  men,  that  deeds  have  a  far  more  potent 
educating  influence  than  any  amount  of  doctrine,  and  espe- 
cially so  in  an  age  like  yours,  when  the  masses  had  almost 
no  culture  or  ability  to  reason.  There  were  not  lacking  in 
the  revolutionary  period  many  cultured  men  and  women, 
who,  with  voice  and  pen,  espoused  the  workers'  cause,  and 
showed  them  the  way  out ;  but  their  words  might  well  have 
availed  little  but  for  the  tremendous  emphasis  with  which 
they  were  confirmed  by  the  men  up  there,  who  starved  to 
prove  them  true.  Those  rough-looking  fellows,  who  proba- 
bly could  not  have  constructed  a  grammatical  sentence,  by 
their  combined  efforts,  were  demonstrating  the  necessity  of  a 
radically  new  industrial  system  by  a  more  convincing  argu- 
ment than  any  rhetorician's  skill  could  frame.  When  men 
take  their  lives  in  their  hands  to  resist  oppression,  as  those 
men  did,  other  men  are  compelled  to  give  heed  to  them. 
We  have  inscribed  on  the  pedestal  yonder,  where  you  see 
the  lettering,  the  words,  which  the  action  of  the  group  above 
seems  to  voice : 

"  '  We  can  bear  no  more.     It  is  better  to  starve  than  live 


210  EQUALITY. 

on  the  terms  you  give  us.  Our  lives,  the  lives  of  our  wives 
and  of  our  children,  we  set  against  your  gains.  If  you  put 
your  foot  upon  our  neck,  we  will  bite  your  heel  I ' 

''This  was  the  cry,"  pursued  the  doctor,  "of  men  made 
desperate  by  oppression,  to  w^hom  existence  through  suffer- 
ing had  become  of  no  value.  It  was  the  same  cry  that  in 
varied  form  but  in  one  sense  has  been  the  watchword  of 
every  revolution  that  has  marked  an  advance  of  the  race — 
'  Give  us  liberty,  or  give  us  death ! '  and  never  did  it  ring  out 
with  a  cause  so  adequate,  or  wake  the  world  to  an  issue  so 
mighty,  as  in  the  mouths  of  these  first  rebels  against  the 
folly  and  the  tyranny  of  private  capital. 

"  In  your  age,  I  know,  Julian,''  the  doctor  went  on  in  a 
gentler  tone,  "  it  was  customary  to  associate  valor  with  the 
clang  of  arms  and  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  war.  But 
the  echo  of  the  fife  and  drum  comes  very  faintly  up  to  us, 
and  moves  us  not  at  all.  The  soldier  has  had  his  day,  and 
passed  away  forever  with  the  ideal  of  manhood  which  he  il- 
lustrated. But  that  group  yonder  stands  for  a  type  of  self- 
devotion  that  appeals  to  us  profoundly.  Those  men  risked 
their  lives  when  they  flung  down  the  tools  of  their  trade,  as 
truly  as  any  soldiers  going  into  battle,  and  took  odds  as 
desperate,  and  not  only  for  themselves,  but  for  their  families, 
which  no  grateful  country  would  care  for  in  case  of  casualty 
to  them.  The  soldier  went  forth  cheered  with  music,  and 
supported  by  the  enthusiasm  of  the  country,  but  these  others 
were  covered  with  ignominy  and  public  contempt,  and  their 
failures  and  defeats  were  hailed  with  general  acclamation. 
And  yet  they  sought  not  the  lives  of  others,  but  only  that  they 
might  barely  live  ;  and  though  they  had  first  thought  of  the 
welfare  of  themselves,  and  those  nearest  them,  yet  not  the 
less  were  they  fighting  the  fight  of  humanity  and  posterity 
in  striking  in  the  only  way  they  could,  and  while  yet  no 
one  else  dared  strike  at  all,  against  the  economic  system 
that  had  the  world  by  the  throat,  and  would  never  relax  its 
grip  by  dint  of  soft  words,  or  anything  less  than  disabling 
blows.  The  clergy,  the  economists  and  the  pedagogues,  hav- 
ing left  these  ignorant  men  to  seek  as  they  might  the 
solution  of  the  social  problem,  while  they  themselves  sat 
at  ease    and   denied    that    there   was    any   problem,   were 


THE  STRIKERS.  211 

very  voluble  in  their  criticisms  of  the  mistakes  of  the  work- 
ing-men, as  if  it  were  possible  to  make  any  mistake  in 
seeking  a  way  out  of  the  social  chaos,  which  could  be  so 
fatuous  or  so  criminal  as  the  mistake  of  not  trying  to  seek 
any.  No  doubt,  Julian,  I  have  put  finer  words  in  the 
mouths  of  those  men  up  there  than  their  originals  might 
have  even  understood,  but  if  the  meaning  was  not  in  their 
words  it  was  in  their  deeds.  And  it  is  for  wliat  they  did, 
not  for  what  they  said,  that  we  honor  them  as  protomartyrs 
of  the  industrial  republic  of  to-day,  and  bring  our  children, 
that  they  may  kiss  in  gratitude  the  rough-shod  feet  of  those 
who  made  the  way  for  us." 

My  experiences  since  I  waked  up  in  this  year  2000  might' 
be  said  to  have  consisted  of  a  succession  of  instantaneous 
mental  readjustments  of  a  revolutionary  character,  in  which 
what  had  formerly  seemed  evil  to  me  had  become  good,  and 
what  had  seemed  wisdom  had  become  foolishness.  Had 
this  conversation  about  the  strikers  taken  place  anywhere 
else,  the  entirely  new  impression  I  had  received  of  the  part 
played  by  them  in  the  great  social  revolution  of  which  I 
shared  the  benefit  would  simply  have  been  one  more  of 
these  readjustments,  and  the  process  entirely  a  mental  one. 
But  the  j)resence  of  this  wondi^ous  group,  the  lifelikeness  of 
the  figures  growing  on  my  gaze  as  I  listened  to  the  doctor's 
words,  imparted  a  peculiar  personal  quality — if  I  may  use  the 
term — to  the  revulsion  of  feeling  that  I  experienced.  Moved 
by  an  irresistible  impulse,  I  rose  to  my  feet,  and,  removing 
my  hat,  saluted  the  grim  forms  whose  living  originals  I 
had  joined  my  contemporaries  in  reviling. 

The  doctor  smiled  gravely. 

"Do  you  know,  my  boy,"  he  said,  "it  is  not  often  that 
the  whirligig  of  Time  brings  round  his  revenges  in  quite  so 
dramatic  a  way  as  this  ? " 


212  EQUALITY. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

FOREIGN  COMMERCE  UNDER  PROFITS  ;  PROTECTION  AND  FREE 
TRADE,  OR  BETWEEN  THE  DEVIL  AND  THE  DEEP  SEA. 

We  arrived  at  the  Arlington  School  some  time  before  the 
beginning  of  the  recitation  which  we  were  to  attend,  and  the 
doctor  took  the  opportunity  to  introduce  me  to  the  teacher. 
He  was  extremely  interested  to  learn  that  I  had  attended 
the  morning  session,  and  very  desirous  to  know  something 
of  my  impressions.  As  to  the  forthcoming  recitation,  he 
suggested  that  if  the  members  of  the  class  were  aware  that 
they  had  so  distinguished  an  auditor,  it  would  be  likely 
to  embarrass  them,  and  he  should  therefore  say  nothing 
about  my  presence  until  the  close  of  the  session,  when  he 
should  crave  the  privilege  of  presenting  his  pupils  to  me 
personally.  He  hoped  I  would  permit  this,  as  it  would  be 
for  them  the  event  of  a  lifetime  which  their  grandchildren 
would  never  tire  of  hearing  them  describe.  The  entrance 
of  the  class  interrupted  our  conversation,  and  the  doctor 
and  myself,  having  taken  our  seats  in  a  gallery,  where  we 
could  hear  and  see  without  being  seen,  the  session  at  once 
began. 

"  This  morning,"  said  the  teacher,  "  we  confined  ourselves 
for  the  sake  of  clearness  to  the  effects  of  the  profit  system 
upon  a  nation  or  community  considered  as  if  it  were  alone 
in  the  world  and  without  relations  to  other  communities. 
There  is  no  way  in  which  such  outside  relations  operated  to 
negative  any  of  the  laws  of  profit  which  were  brought  out 
this  m^orning,  but  they  did  operate  to  extend  the  effect  of 
those  laws  in  many  interesting  ways,  and  without  some  ref- 
erence to  foreign  commerce  our  review  of  the  profit  system 
would  be  incomplete. 

"  In  the  so-called  political  economies  of  our  forefathers 
we  read  a  vast  deal  about  the  advantages  to  a  country  of 
having  an  international  trade.  It  was  supposed  to  be  one 
of  the  gi'eat  secrets  of  national  prosperity,  and  a  chief 
study  of  the  nineteenth-century  statesmen  seems  to  have 
been  to  establish  and  extend  foreign  commerce. — Now.  Paul, 


FOREIGN  COMMERCE  UNDER  PROFITS.         213 

will  you  tell  us  the  economic  theory  as  to  the  advantages  of 
foreign  commerce  ? " 

''  It  is  based  on  the  fact,''  said  the  lad  Paul,  "  that  coun- 
tries differ  in  climate,  natural  resources,  and  other  condi- 
tions, so  that  in  some  it  is  wholly  impossible  or  very  diffi- 
cult to  produce  certain  needful  things,  while  it  is  very  easy 
to  produce  certain  other  things  in  greater  abundance  than 
is  needed.  In  former  times  also  there  were  marked  differ- 
ences in  the  grade  of  civilization  and  the  condition  of  the 
arts  in  different  countries,  which  still  further  modified  their 
respective  powers  in  the  production  of  wealth.  This  being  so, 
it  might  obviously  be  for  the  mutual  advantage  of  countries 
to  exchange  with  one  another  what  they  could  produce 
against  what  they  could  not  produce  at  all  or  only  with 
difficulty,  and  not  merely  thus  secure  m.any  things  which 
otherwise  they  must  go  without,  but  also  greatly  increase 
the  total  effectiveness  of  their  industry  byapjDlying  it  to  the 
sorts  of  production  best  fitted  to  their  conditions.  In  order, 
however,  that  the  i)eople  of  the  respective  countries  should 
actually  derive  this  advantage  or  any  advantage  from  for- 
eign exchange,  it  would  be  necessary  that  the  exchanges 
should  be  carried  on  in  the  general  interest  for  the  pur- 
pose of  giving  the  people  at  large  the  benefit  of  them,  as  is 
done  at  the  present  day,  when  foreign  commerce,  like  other 
economic  undertakings,  is  carried  on  by  the  governments  of 
the  several  countries.  But  there  was,  of  course,  no  national 
agency  to  carry  on  foreign  commerce  in  that  day.  The  for- 
eign trade,  just  like  the  internal  processes  of  production  and 
distribution,  was  conducted  by  the  capitalists  on  the  profit  sys- 
tem. The  result  was  that  all  the  benefits  of  this  fair  sounding 
theory  of  foreign  commerce  were  either  totally  nullified  or 
turned  into  curses,  and  the  international  trade  relations  of 
the  countries  constituted  merely  a  larger  field  for  illustrating 
the  baneful  effects  of  the  profit  system  and  its  power  to  turn 
good  to  evil  and  '  shut  the  gates  of  mercy  on  mankind.'  " 

HOW   PROFITS   NULLIFIED   THE   BENEFIT   OF   COMMERCE. 

"  Illustrate,  please,  the  operation  of  the  profit  system  in 
international  trade." 

"Let  us  suppose,"   said  the  boy  Paul,  "that  America 
15 


214:  EQUALITY. 

could  produce  grain  and  other  food  stuffs  with  great  cheap- 
ness and  in  greater  quantities  than  the  people  needed.  Sup- 
pose, on  the  contrary,  that  England  could  produce  food 
stuffs  only  with  difficulty  and  in  small  quantities.  Suppose, 
however,  that  England,  on  account  of  various  conditions, 
could  produce  clothing  and  hardware  much  more  cheaply 
and  abundantly  than  America.  In  such  a  case  it  would 
seem  that  both  countries  would  be  gainers  if  Americans  ex- 
changed the  food  stuffs  which  it  was  so  easy  for  them  to 
produce  for  the  clothing  and  hardware  which  it  was  so  easy 
for  the  English  to  produce.  The  result  would  appear  to 
promise  a  clear  and  equal  gain  for  both  people.  But  this, 
of  course,  is  on  the  supposition  that  the  exchange  should  be 
negotiated  by  a  public  agencj^  for  the  benefit  of  the  respect- 
ive populations  at  large.  But  w^hen,  as  in  those  days,  the 
exchange  was  negotiated  wholly  by  iDrivate  capitalists  com- 
peting for  private  profits  at  the  expense  of  the  communities, 
the  result  w^as  totally  different. 

"  The  American  grain  merchant  who  exported  grain  to 
the  English  w^ould  be  impelled,  by  the  competition  of  other 
American  grain  merchants,  to  put  his  price  to  the  English 
as  low  as  possible,  and  to  do  that  he  would  beat  down  to  the 
lowest  possible  figure  the  American  farmer  who  produced 
the  grain.  And  not  only  must  the  American  merchant  sell 
as  low  as  his  American  rivals,  but  he  must  also  undersell  the 
gi-ain  merchants  of  other  grain-producing  countries,  such  as 
Eussia,  Egypt,  and  India.  And  now  let  us  see  how  much 
benefit  the  English  people  received  from  the  cheap  Ameri- 
can grain.  We  will  say  that,  owing  to  the  foreign  food 
supply,  the  cost  of  living  declined  one  half  or  a  third  in 
England.  Here  would  seem  a  great  gain  surely ;  but  look 
at  the  other  side  of  it.  The  English  must  pay  for  their 
grain  by  supplying  the  Americans  with  cloth  and  hardware. 
The  English  manufacturers  of  these  things  were  rivals  just 
as  the  American  grain  merchants  were — each  one  desirous 
of  capturing  as  large  a  part  of  the  American  market  as  he 
could.  He  must  therefore,  if  possible,  undersell  his  home 
rivals.  Moreover,  like  the  American  grain  merchant,  the 
English  manufacturer  must  contend  with  foreign  rivals. 
Belgium   and   Germany   made  hardware   and    cloth  very 


FOKEIGN  COMMERCE  UNDER  PROFITS.  215 

cheaply,  and  the  Americans  would  exchange  their  grain  for 
these  commodities  with  the  Belgians  and  the  Germans  un- 
less the  English  sold  cheaper.  Now,  the  main  element  in 
the  cost  of  making  cloth  and  hardware  was  the  wages  paid 
for  labor,  A  pressure  was  accordingly  sure  to  be  brought 
to  bear  by  every  English  manufacturer  upon  his  workmen 
to  compel  them  to  accept  lower  wages  so  that  he  might  un- 
dersell his  English  rivals,  and  also  cut  under  the  German 
and  Belgian  manufacturers,  who  were  trying  to  get  the 
American  trade.  Now  can  the  English  workman  live  on  less 
wages  than  before  ?  Plainly  he  can,  for  his  food  supply  has 
been  greatly  cheapened.  Presently,  therefore,  he  linds  his 
wages  forced  down  by  as  much  as  the  cheaper  food  supply 
has  cheapened  his  living,  and  so  finds  himself  just  where  he 
was  to  start  with  before  the  American  trade  began.  And 
now  look  again  at  the  American  farmer.  He  is  now  getting 
his  imported  clothing  and  tools  much  cheaper  than  before, 
and  consequently  the  lowest  living  price  at  w^hich  he  can 
afford  to  sell  grain  is  considerably  lower  than  before  the 
English  trade  began— lower  by  so  much,  in  fact,  as  he  has 
saved  on  his  tools  and  clothing.  Of  this,  the  grain  mer- 
chant, of  course,  took  prompt  advantage,  for  unless  he  put 
his  grain  into  the  English  market  lower  than  other  grain  mer- 
chants, he  would  lose  his  trade,  and  Russia,  Egypt,  and  India 
stood  ready  to  flood  England  with  grain  if  the  Americans 
could  not  bid  below  them,  and  then  farewell  to  cheap  cloth 
and  tools  !  So  down  presently  went  the  pr;ce  the  American 
farmer  received  for  his  grain,  until  the  reduction  absorbed 
all  that  he  had  gained  by  the  cheaper  imported  fabrics  and 
hardware,  and  he,  like  his  fellow-victim  across  the  sea— the 
English  iron  worker  or  factory  operative— was  no  better  off 
than  he  was  before  English  trade  had  been  suggested. 

"  But  was  he  as  well  off  ?  Was  either  the  American  or  the 
English  worker  as  well  off  as  before  this  interchange  of 
products  began,  which,  if  rightly  conducted,  would  have 
been  so  greatly  beneficial  to  both  ?  On  the  contrary,  both 
alike  were  in  important  ways  distinctly  worse  off.  Each  had 
indeed  done  badly  enough  before,  but  the  industrial  system 
on  which  they  depended,  being  limited  by  the  national  bor- 
ders, was  comparatively  simple  and  uncomplex,  self -sustain- 


216  EQUALITY. 

ing-,  and  liable  only  to  local  and  transient  disturbances,  the 
effect  of  which  could  be  to  some  extent  estimated,  possibly 
remedied.  Now,  however,  the  English  operatives  and  the 
American  farmer  had  alike  become  dependent  upon  the  deli- 
cate balance  of  a  complex  set  of  international  adjustments 
liable  at  any  moment  to  derangements  that  might  take  away 
their  livelihood,  without  leaving-  them  even  the  small  satis- 
faction of  understanding  what  hurt  them.  The  prices  of 
their  labor  or  their  produce  were  no  long-er  dependent  as 
before  upon  established  local  customs  and  national  standards 
of  living,  but  had  become  subject  to  determination  by  the 
pitiless  necessities  of  a  world-wide  competition  in  w^hich  the 
American  farmer  and  the  English  artisan  were  forced  into 
rivalship  with  the  Indian  ryot,  the  Egyptian  fellah,  the  half- 
starved  Belgian  miner,  or  the  G-erman  weaver.  In  former 
ages,  before  international  trade  had  become  general,  when 
one  nation  w^as  dowm  another  was  up,  and  there  was  always 
hope  in  looking  over  seas  ;  but  the  prospect  which  the  un- 
limited development  of  international  commerce  upon  the 
profit  system  was  opening  to  mankind  the  latter  part  of  the 
nineteenth  century  was  that  of  a  world-wide  standard  of  liv- 
ing fixed  by  the  rate  at  which  life  could  be  supported  by  the 
worst-used  races.  International  trade  was  already  showing 
itself  to  be  the  instrumentality  by  which  the  w^orld-wide  plu- 
tocracy w^ould  soon  have  established  its  sway  if  the  great 
Revolution  had  tarried." 

"In  the  case  of  the  supposed  reciprocal  trade  between 
England  and  America,  which  you  have  used  as  an  illus- 
tration," said  the  teacher,  "you  have  assumed  that  the 
trade  relation  was  an  exchange  of  commodities  on  equal 
terms.  In  such  a  case  it  appears  that  the  effect  of  the  profit 
system  was  to  leave  tlie  masses  of  both  countries  somewhat 
worse  off  than  they  would  have  been  without  foreign  trade, 
the  gain  on  both  the  American  and  English  side  inuriiig 
wholly  to  the  manufacturing  and  trading  capitalists.  But 
in  fact  both  countries  in  a  trade  relation  w^ere  not  usually 
on  equal  terms.  The  capitalists  of  one  were  often  far  more 
powerful  than  those  of  another,  and  had  a  stronger  or  older 
economic  organization  at  their  service.  In  that  case  what 
was  the  result  ? " 


FOREIGN  COMMERCE    CINDER  PROFITS.  217 

"  The  overwhelming  competition  of  the  capitalists  of  the 
stronger  country  crushed  out  the  enterprises  of  the  capital- 
ists of  the  weaker  country,  the  people  of  which  consequently 
became  wholly  dependent  upon  the  foreign  caj^italists  for 
many  productions  which  otherwise  would  have  been  pro- 
duced at  home  to  the  profit  of  home  capitalists,  and  in  pro- 
portion as  the  capitalists  of  the  dependent  country  were  thus 
rendered  economically  incapable  of  resistance  the  capitalists 
of  the  stronger  country  regulated  at  their  pleasure  the  terms 
of  trade.  The  American  colonies,  in  1776,  were  driven  to 
revolt  against  England  by  the  oppression  resulting  from 
such  a  relation.  The  object  of  founding  colonies,  which 
was  one  of  the  main  ends  of  seventeenth,  eighteenth,  and 
nineteenth  century  statesmanship,  was  to  bring  new  com- 
munities into  this  relation  of  economic  vassalage  to  the 
home  capitalists,  who,  having  beggared  the  home  market  by 
their  profit,  saw  no  prospect  of  making  more  except  by  fas- 
tening their  suckers  upon  outside  communities.  Great  Brit- 
ain, whose  capitalists  were  strongest  of  all.  was  naturally 
the  leader  in  this  policy,  and  the  main  end  of  her  w^ars  and 
her  diplomacy  for  many  centuries  before  the  great  Revolu- 
tion was  to  obtain  such  colonies,  and  to  secure  from  weaker 
nations  trade  concessions  and  openings — peaceably  if  pos- 
sible, at  the  mouth  of  the  cannon  if  necessary." 

"How  about  the  condition  of  the  masses  in  a  country 
thus  reduced  to  commercial  vassalage  to  the  capitalists  of  an- 
other country  ?  Was  it  necessarily  worse  than  the  condition 
of  the  masses  of  the  superior  country  ?  " 

"  That  did  not  follow  at  all.  We  must  con.stantly  keep 
in  mind  that  the  interests  of  the  capitalists  and  of  the  peo- 
ple were  not  identical.  The  prosperity  of  the  capitalists 
of  a  country  by  no  means  implied  prosperity  on  the  part 
of  the  population,  nor  the  reverse.  If  the  masses  of  the 
dependent  country  had  not  been  exploited  by  foreign  capi- 
talists, they  would  have  been  by  domestic  capitalists.  Botli 
they  and  the  working  masses  of  the  superior  country  were 
equally  the  tools  and  slaves  of  the  capitalists,  who  did  not 
treat  workingmen  any  better  on  account  of  being  their  fel- 
low-countrymen than  if  they  had  been  foreigners.  It  was 
the  capitalists  of  the  dependent  countrj"  rather   than   the 


218  EQUALITY. 

masses  who  suffered  by  the  suppression  of  independent  busi- 
ness enterprises." 

BETWEEN  THE  DEVIL  AND  THE  DEEP  SEA. 

"That  will  do,  Paul. — We  will  now  ask  some  informa- 
tion from  you,  Helen,  as  to  a  point  which  Paul's  last  words 
have  suggested.  During  the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  cen- 
turies a  bitter  controversy  raged  among  our  ancestors  be- 
tween two  parties  in  opinion  and  politics,  calling  them- 
selves, respectively,  the  Protectionists  and  the  Free  Traders, 
the  former  of  whom  held  that  it  was  well  to  shut  out  the 
competition  of  foreign  capitalists  in  the  market  of  a  country 
by  a  tariff  upon  imports,  while  the  latter  held  that  no  impedi- 
ment should  be  allowed  to  the  entirely  free  course  of  trade. 
What  have  you  to  say  as  to  the  merits  of  this  controversy  ? '' 

"  Merely,"  replied  the  girl  called  Helen,  "  that  the  differ- 
ence between  the  two  policies,  so  far  as  it  affected  the  people 
at  large,  reduced  itself  to  the  question  whether  they  pre- 
ferred being  fleeced  by  home  or  foreign  capitalists.  Free 
trade  was  the  cry  of  the  capitalists  who  felt  themselves  able 
to  crush  those  of  rival  nations  if  allowed  the  opportunity 
to  compete  with  them.  Protection  was  the  cry  of  the  capi- 
talists who  felt  themselves  weaker  than  those  of  other  na- 
tions, and  feared  that  their  enterprises  would  be  crushed 
and  their  profits  taken  away  if  free  competition  were  al- 
lowed. The  Free  Traders  were  like  a  man  who,  seeing  his 
antagonist  is  no  match  for  him,  boldly  calls  for  a  free  fight 
and  no  favor,  while  the  Protectionist  was  the  man  who, 
seeing  himself  overmatched,  called  for  the  police.  The  Free 
Trader  held  that  the  natural,  God-given  right  of  the  capital- 
ist to  shear  the  people  anywhere  he  found  them  was  supe- 
rior to  considerations  of  race,  nationality,  or  boundary  lines. 
The  Protectionist,  on  the  contrary,  maintained  the  patriotic 
right  of  the  capitalist  to  the  exclusive  shearing  of  his  own 
fellow-countrymen  without  interference  of  foreign  capital- 
ists. As  to  the  mass  of  the  people,  the  nation  at  large,  it 
was,  as  Paul  has  just  said,  a  matter  of  indifference  whether 
they  were  fleeced  by  the  capitalists  of  their  own  country 
under  protection  or  the  capitalists  of  foreign  countries  un- 
der free  trade.     The  literature  of  the  controversy  between 


FOREIGN  COMMERCE  UNDER  PROFITS.         219 

Protectionists  and  Free  Traders  makes  this  very  clear.  What- 
ever else  the  Protectionists  failed  to  prove,  they  were  able 
to  demonstrate  that  the  condition  of  the  people  m  free- 
trade  countries  was  quite  as  bad  as  anywhere  else,  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  Free  Traders  were  equally  conclusive  m 
the  proofs  they  presented  that  the  people  in  protected  coun- 
tries other  things  being  equal,  were  no  better  off  than  those 
in  free-trade  lands.  The  question  of  Protection  or  Free 
Trade  interested  the  capitalists  only.  For  the  people,  it  was 
the  choice  between  the  devil  and  the  deep  sea." 

''Let  us  have  a  concrete  illustration,"  said  the  teacher. 
''Take  the  case  of  England.  She  was  beyond  comparison 
the  countrv  of  all  others  in  the  nineteenth  century  which 
had  most  foreign  trade  and  commanded  most  foreign  mar- 
kets If  a  large  volume  of  foreign  trade  under  conditions 
practically  dictated  by  its  capitalists  was  under  the  profit 
system  a  source  of  national  prosperity  to  a  country,  we 
should  expect  to  see  tlie  mass  of  the  British  people  at  the 
end  of  the  nineteenth  century  enjoying  an  altogether  ex- 
traordinary felicity  and  general  welfare  as  compared  with 
that  of  other  peoples  or  any  former  people,  for  never  before 
did  a  nation  develop  so  vast  a  foreign  commerce.  What 
were  the  facts  ? " 

"  It  was  common,"  replied  the  girl,  "  for  our  ancestors  m 
the  vague  and  foggy  way  in  which  they  used  the  terms 
'nation'  and  'national'  to  speak  of  Great  Britain  as  rich. 
But  it  was  only  her  capitalists,  some  scores  of  thousands  of 
individuals  among  some  forty  million  people,  who  were 
rich.  These  indeed  had  incredible  accumulations,  but  the 
remainder  of  the  forty  millions— the  whole  people,  in  fact, 
save  an  infinitesimal  fraction— were  sunk  in  poverty.  It  is 
said  that  England  had  a  larger  and  more  hopeless  pauper 
problem  than  any  other  civilized  nation.  The  condition  of 
her  working  masses  was  not  only  more  wretched  than  that 
of  many  contemporary  people,  but  was  worse,  as  proved  by 
the  most  careful  economic  comparisons,  than  it  had  been  in 
the  fifteenth  century,  before  foreign  trade  was  thought  of. 
People  do  not  emigrate  from  a  land  where  they  are  well  off, 
but  the  British  people,  driven  out  by  want,  had  found  the 
frozen  Canadas  and  the  torrid  zone  more  hospitable  than 


220  EQUALITY. 

their  native  land.  As  an  illustration  of  the  fact  that  the 
welfare  of  the  working  masses  was  in  no  way  improved 
when  the  capitalists  of  a  country  commanded  foreign 
markets,  it  is  interesting  to  note  the  fact  that  the  British 
emigrant  was  able  to  make  a  better  living  in  English 
colonies  whose  markets  were  wholly  dominated  by  English 
capitalists  than  he  had  been  at  honle  as  the  employee  of 
those  capitalists.  We  shall  remember  also  that  Malthus, 
with  his  doctrine  that  it  was  the  best  thing  that  could 
happen  to  a  workingman  not  to  be  born,  was  an  English- 
man, and  based  his  conclusions  very  logically  upon  his 
observation  of  the  conditions  of  life  for  the  masses  in  that 
country  which  had  been  more  successful  than  any  other  in 
any  age  in  monopolizing  the  foreign  markets  of  the  world 
by  its  commerce. 

"  Or,"  the  lad  went  on,  "  take  Belgium,  that  old  Flemish 
land  of  merchants,  where  foreign  trade  had  been  longer 
and  more  steadily  used  than  in  any  other  European  coun- 
try. In  the  latter  part  of  the  nineteenth  century  the  mass 
of  the  Belgian  people,  the  hardest-worked  population  in  the 
world,  was  said  to  have  been,  as  a  rule,  without  adequate 
food — to  be  undergoing,  in  short,  a  process  of  slow  starva- 
tion. They,  like  the  people  of  England  and  the  people  of 
Germany,  are  proved,  by  statistical  calculations  upon  the 
subject  that  have  come  down  to  us,  to  have  been  economic- 
ally very  much  better  off  during  the  fifteenth  and  early 
part  of  the  sixteenth  century,  when  foreign  trade  was  hardly 
known,  than  they  were  in  the  nineteenth.  There  was  a 
possibility  before  foreign  trade  for  profit  began  that  a  popu- 
lation might  obtain  some  share  of  the  richness  of  a  bountiful 
land  just  from  the  lack  of  any  outlet  for  it.  But  with  the 
beginning  of  foreign  commerce,  under  the  profit  system, 
that  possibility  vanished.  Thenceforth  everything  good  or 
desirable,  above  what  might  serve  for  the  barest  subsistence 
of  labor,  was  systematically  and  exhaustively  gathered  up 
by  the  capitalists,  to  be  exchanged  in  foreign  lands  for  gold 
and  gems,  silks,  velvets,  and  ostrich  plumes  for  the  rich.  As 
Goldsmith  had  it : 

"  Around  the  world  each  needful  product  flies 
For  all  the  luxuries  the  world  supplies," 


HOSTILITY  OF  VESTED  INTERESTS  TO  PROGRESS.  221 

"  To  what  has  the  struggle  of  the  nations  for  foreign 
markets  in  the  nineteenth  century  been  aptly  compared  ? " 

"  To  a  contest  between  galleys  manned  by  slaves,  whose 
owners  were  racing  for  a  prize." 

"  In  such  a  race,  which  crew  was  likely  to  fare  worse, 
that  of  the  winning  or  the  losing  galley  ?  " 

"That  of  the  winning  galley,  by  all  means,"  replied  the 
girl,  "for  the  supposition  is  that,  other  conditions  being 
equal,  it  was  the  more  sorely  scourged." 

"  Just  so,"  said  the  teacher,  "  and  on  the  same  principle, 
when  the  capitalists  of  two  countries  contended  for  the  sup- 
plying of  a  foreign  market  it  was  the  workers  subject  to  the 
successful  group  of  capitalists  who  were  most  to  be  pitied, 
for,  other  conditions  being  equal,  they  were  likely  to  be 
those  whose  wages  had  been  cut  lowest  and  whose  general 
condition  was  most  degraded." 

"But  tell  us,"  said  the  teacher,  "were  there  not  instances 
of  a  general  poverty  in  countries  having  no  foreign  trade  as 
great  as  prevailed  in  the  countries  you  have  mentioned  ? " 

"  Dear  me,  yes  ! "  replied  the  girl.  "  I  have  not  meant  to 
convey  any  impression  that  because  the  tender  mercies  of 
the  foreign  capitalists  were  cruel,  those  of  the  domestic  cap- 
italist were  any  less  so.  The  comparison  is  merely  between 
the  operation  of  the  profit  system  on  a  larger  or  smaller 
scale.  So  long  as  the  profit  system  was  retained,  it  would 
be  all  one  in  the  end,  whether  you  built  a  wall  around  a 
country  and  left  the  people  to  be  exploited  exclusively  by 
home  capitalists,  or  threw  the  wall  down  and  let  in  the 
foreigners." 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

HOSTILITY   OF  A   SYSTEM   OF   VESTED   INTERESTS  TO 
IMPROVEMENT. 

"  Now,  Florence,"  said  the  teacher,  "  with  your  assist- 
ance we  will  take  up  the  closing  topic  in  our  consideration 
of  the  economic  system  of  our  fathers — namely,  its  hostility 
to  invention  and  improvement.     It  has  been  our  painful 


222  EQUALITY. 

duty  to  point  out  numerous  respects  in  which  our  respected 
ancestors  were  strangely  blind  to  the  true  character  and 
effects  of  their  economic  institutions,  but  no  instance  per- 
haps is  more  striking-  than  this.  Far  from  seeing  the  neces- 
sary antagonism  between  private  capitalism  and  the  march 
of  improvement  which  is  so  plain  to  us,  they  appear  to  have 
sincerely  believed  that  their  system  was  peculiarly  favora- 
ble to  the  progress  of  invention,  and  that  its  advantage  in 
this  respect  w^as  so  great  as  to  be  an  important  set-off  to  its 
admitted  ethical  defects.  Here  there  is  decidedly  a  broad 
difPerence  in  opinion,  but  fortunately  the  facts  are  so  well 
authenticated  that  we  shall  have  no  difficulty  in  concluding 
w^hich  view  is  correct. 

"The  subject  divides  itself  iuto  two  branches:  First,  the 
natui'al  antagonism  of  the  old  system  to  economic  changes ; 
and,  second,  the  effect  of  the  profit  principle  to  minimize  if 
not  w^holly  to  nullify  the  benefit  of  such  economic  improve- 
ments as  were  able  to  overcome  that  antagonism  so  far  as 
to  get  themselves  introduced. — Now,  Florence,  tell  us  what 
there  was  about  the  old  economic  system,  the  system  of  pri- 
vate capitalism,  which  made  it  constitutionally  opposed  to 
changes  in  methods." 

"It  was,"  replied  the  girl,  "the  fact  that  it  consisted  of 
independent  vested  interests  without  any  principle  of  co- 
ordination or  combination,  the  result  being  that  the  eco- 
nomic welfare  of  every  individual  or  group  was  wholly 
dependent  upon  his  or  its  particular  vested  interest  without 
regard  to  others  or  to  the  welfare  of  the  whole  body." 

"Please  bring  out  your  meaning  by  comparing  our 
modern  system  in  the  respect  you  speak  of  with  private 
capitalism." 

"  Our  system  is  a  strictly  integrated  one — that  is  to  say, 
no  one  has  any  economic  interest  in  any  part  or  function  of 
the  economic  organization  which  is  distinct  from  his  inter- 
est in  every  other  part  and  function.  His  only  interest  is 
in  the  greatest  possible  output  of  the  whole.  We  have  our 
several  occupations,  but  only  that  we  may  work  the  more 
efficiently  for  the  common  fund.  We  may  become  very 
enthusiastic  about  our  special  pursuit,  but  as  a  matter  of 
sentiment  only,  for  our  economic   interests  are  no  more 


HOSTILITY  OF  VESTED  INTERESTS  TO  PROGRESS.  223 

dependent  upon  our  special  occupation  than  upon  any  other. 
We  share  equally  in  the  total  product,  whatever  it  is." 

''How  does  the  integi^ated  character  of  the  economic 
system  affect  our  attitude  toward  improvements  or  inven- 
tions of  any  sort  in  economic  processes  ? " 

"We  welcome  them  with  eagerness.  Why  should  we 
not  ?  Any  improvement  of  this  sort  must  necessarily  re- 
dound to  the  advantage  of  every  one  in  the  nation  and  to 
every  one's  advantage  equally.  If  the  occupation  affected 
by  the  invention  happens  to  be  our  particular  employment 
we  lose  nothing,  though  it  should  make  that  occupation 
wholly  superfluous.  We  might  in  that  case  feel  a  little 
sentimental  regret  over  the  passing  away  of  old  habits,  but 
that  is  all.  No  one's  substantial  interests  are  in  any  way 
more  identified  with  one  pursuit  than  another.  All  are  in 
the  service  of  the  nation,  and  it  is  the  business  and  interest 
of  the  nation  to  see  that  every  one  is  provided  with  other 
work  as  soon  as  his  former  occupation  becomes  unnecessary 
to  the  general  weal,  and  under  no  circumstances  is  his  rate 
of  maintenance  affected.  From  its  first  production  every 
improvement  in  economic  processes  is  therefore  an  unal- 
loyed blessing  to  all.  The  inventor  comes  bringing  a  gift  of 
gi^eater  wealth  or  leisure  in  his  hand  for  every  one  on  earth, 
and  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  people's  gratitude  makes  his  re- 
ward the  most  enviable  to  be  won  by  a  public  benefactor.'' 

"  Now,  Florence,  tell  us  in  what  way  the  multitude  of 
distinct  vested  interests  which  made  up  private  capitalism 
operated  to  produce  an  antagonism  toward  economic  inven- 
tions and  improvements." 

HOW  PROGRESS   ANTAGONIZED   VESTED   INTERESTS. 

"As  I  have  said,"  replied  the  girl,  "everybody's  interest 
was  wholly  confined  to  and  bound  up  with  the  particular 
occupation  he  was  engaged  in.  If  he  was  a  capitalist,  his 
capital  was  embarked  in  it ;  if  he  was  an  artisan,  his  capital 
was  the  knowledge  of  some  particular  craft  or  part  of  a 
craft,  and  he  depended  for  his  livelihood  on  the  demand  for 
the  sort  of  work  he  had  learned  how  to  do.  Neither  as 
capitalist  or  artisan,  as  employer  or  employee,  had  he  any 
economic  interest  or  dependence  outside  of  or  larger  than 


224  EQUx\LITY. 

his  special  business.  Now,  the  effect  of  any  new  idea,  inven- 
tion, or  discovery  for  economic  application  is  to  dispense 
more  or  less  completely  with  the  process  formerly  used  in 
that  department,  and  so  far  to  destroy  the  economic  basis  of 
the  occupations  connected  with  that  business.  Under  our 
system,  as  I  have  said,  that  means  no  loss  to  anybody,  but 
simply  a  shifting  of  workers,  with  a  net  gain  in  wealth  or 
leisure  to  all ;  but  then  it  meant  ruin  to  those  involved  in 
the  change.  The  capitalist  lost  his  capital,  his  plant,  his 
investments  more  or  less  totally,  and  the  workingmen  lost 
their  means  of  livelihood  and  were  thrown  on  w^hat  you 
well  called  the  cold  charity  of  the  world — a  charity  usually 
well  below  zero ;  and  this  loss  without  any  rebate  or  com- 
pensation whatever  from  the  public  at  large  on  account  of 
any  general  benefit  that  might  be  received  from  the  inven- 
tion. It  was  complete.  Consequently,  the  most  beneficent 
of  inventions  was  cruel  as  death  to  those  who  had  been  de- 
pendent for  living  or  for  profit  on  the  particular  occupa- 
tions it  affected.  The  capitalists  grew  gi'ay  from  fear  of 
discoveries  which  in  a  day  might  turn  their  costly  plants  to 
old  iron  fit  only  for  the  junkshop,  and  the  nightmare  of  the 
artisan  was  some  machine  which  should  take  bread  from 
his  children's  mouths  by  enabling  his  employer  to  dispense 
wdth  his  services. 

"Owing  to  this  division  of  the  economic  field  into  a  set 
of  vested  personal  and  group  interosts  wholly  without  co- 
herency or  integrating  idea,  each  standing  or  failing  by 
and  for  itself,  every  step  in  the  advance  of  the  arts  and 
sciences  w^as  gained  only  at  the  cost  of  an  amount  of  loss 
and  ruin  to  particular  portions  of  the  community  such  as 
would  be  wrought  by  a  blight  or  pestilence.  The  march  of 
invention  was  white  with  the  bleaching  bones  of  innumer- 
able hecatombs  of  victims.  The  spinning  jenny  replaced 
the  spinning  wheel,  and  famine  stalked  through  English 
villages.  Tiie  railroad  supplanted  the  stagecoach,  and  a 
thousand  hill  towns  died  while  as  many  sprang  up  in  the 
valleys,  and  the  farmers  of  the  East  were  pauperized  by  the 
new  agi^iculture  of  the  West.  Petroleum  succeeded  whale- 
oil,  and  a  hundred  seaports  withered.  Coal  and  iron  were 
found  in  the  South,  and  the  grass  grevr  in  the  streets  of  the 


HOSTILITY  OF  VESTED  INTERESTS  TO  PROGRESS.  225 

Northern  centers  of  iron-making.  Electricity  succeeded 
steam,  and  billions  of  railroad  property  were  wiped  out. 
But  what  is  the  use  of  lengthening;  a  list  which  might  be 
made  interminable  ?  The  rule  was  always  the  same  :  every 
important  invention  brought  uncompensated  disaster  to 
some  portion  of  the  people.  Armies  of  bankrupts,  hosts  of 
workers  forced  into  vagabondage,  a  sea  of  suffering  of  every 
sort,  made  up  the  price  wliicli  our  ancestors  paid  for  every 
step  of  progress. 

^'Afterward,  when  the  victims  had  been  buried  or  put 
out  of  the  way,  it  was  customary  with  our  fathers  to  cele- 
brate these  industrial  triumphs,  and  on  such  occasions  a 
common  quotation  in  the  mouths  of  the  orators  was  a  line 
of  verse  to  the  effect  that — 

"  Peace  hath  her  victories  not  less  renowned  than  those  of  war. 

The  orators  were  not  wont  to  dwell  on  the  fact  that  these 
victories  of  what  they  so  oddly  called  peace  were  usually 
purchased  at  a  cost  in  human  life  and  suffering  quite  as 
great  as— yes,  often  greater  than— those  of  so-called  war. 
We  have  all  read  of  Tamerlane's  pyramid  at  Damascus 
made  of  seventy  thousand  skulls  of  his  victims.  It  may  be 
said  that  if  the  victims  of  the  various  inventions  connected 
with  the  introduction  of  steam  had  consented  to  contribute 
their  skulls  to  a  monument  in  honor  of  Stevenson  or 
Arkwright  it  would  dwarf  Tamerlane's  into  insignificance. 
Tamerlane  was  a  beast,  and  Arkwright  was  a  genius  sent  to 
help  men,  yet  the  hideous  juggle  of  the  old-time  economic 
system  made  the  benefactor  the  cause  of  as  much  human 
suffering  as  the  brutal  conqueror.  It  was  bad  enough  when 
men  stoned  and  crucified  those  who  came  to  help  them,  but 
private  capitalism  did  them  a  worse  outrage  still  in  turning 
che  gifts  they  brought  into  curses." 

"  And  did  the  workers  and  the  capitalists  whose  inter- 
ests were  threatened  by  the  progress  of  invention  take  prac- 
tical means  of  resisting  that  progress  and  suppressing  the 
inventions  and  the  inventors  ? " 

"  Tliey  did  all  they  could  in  that  way.  If  the  working- 
men  had  been  strong  enough  they  would  have  put  an  abso- 
lute veto  on  inventions  of  any  sort  tending  to  diminish  the 


226  EQUALITY. 

demand  for  crude  hand  labor  in  their  respective  crafts.  As 
it  was,  they  did  all  it  was  possible  for  them  to  accomplish  in 
that  direction  by  trades-union  dictation  and  mob  violence ; 
nor  can  any  one  blame  the  poor  fellows  for  resisting-  to 
the  utmost  improvements  which  imj)roved  them  out  of 
the  means  of  livelihood.  A  machine  gun  would  have  been 
scarcely  more  deadly  if  turned  upon  the  workingmen  of  that 
day  than  a  labor-saving  machine.  In  those  bitter  times  a 
man  thrown  out  of  the  employment  he  had  fitted  himself 
for  might  about  as  well  have  been  shot,  and  if  he  were  not 
able  to  get  any  other  work,  as  so  many  were  not,  he  would 
have  been  altogether  better  off  had  he  been  killed  in  battle 
with  the  drum  and  fife  to  cheer  him  and  the  hope  of  a  pension 
for  his  family.  Only,  of  course,  it  was  the  system  of  private 
capitalism  and  not  the  labor-saving  machine  which  the  work- 
ingmen  should  have  attacked,  for  with  a  rational  economic 
system  the  machine  would  have  been  wholly  beneficent." 
"  How  did  the  capitalists  resist  inventions  ? "' 
"  Chiefly  by  negative  means,  though  much  more  effective 
ones  than  the  mob  violence  which  the  workingmen  used. 
The  initiative  in  everything  belonged  to  the  capitalists.  No 
inventor  could  introduce  an  invention,  however  excellent, 
unless  he  could  get  capitalists  to  take  it  up,  and  this  usually 
they  would  not  do  unless  the  inventor  relinquished  to  them 
most  of  his  hopes  of  profit  from  the  discovery.  A  much 
more  important  hindrance  to  the  introduction  of  inventions 
resulted  from  the  fact  that  those  who  would  be  interested  in 
taking  them  up  were  those  already  carrying  on  the  business 
the  invention  applied  to,  and  their  interest  Vv^as  in  most  cases 
to  suppress  an  innovation  which  threatened  to  make  obso- 
lete the  machinery  and  methods  in  which  their  capital  was 
invested.  The  capitalist  had  to  be  fully  assured  not  onU^ 
that  the  invention  was  a  good  one  in  itself,  but  that  it  would 
be  so  profitable  to  himself  personally  as  to  make  up  for  all 
the  damage  to  his  existing  capital  before  he  would  touch  it. 
When  inventions  wholly  did  away  with  processes  which  had 
been  the  basis  of  profit-charging  it  was  often  suicidal  for  the 
capitalist  to  adopt  them.  If  they  could  not  suppress  such 
inventions  in  any  other  way,  it  was  their  custom  to  buy 
them  up  and  pigeonhole  them.     After  the  Revolution  there 


HOSTILITY  OF  VESTED  INTERESTS  TO  PROGRESS.  227 

were  found  enougli  of  these  patents  which  had  been  bought 
up  and  pigeonholed  in  self-protection  by  the  capitalists  to 
have  kept  the  world  in  novelties  for  ten  j'-ears  if  notliing 
more  had  been  discovered.  One  of  the  most  tragical  chap- 
ters in  the  history  of  the  old  order  is  made  up  of  the  ditii- 
culties,  rebuffs,  and  lifelong  disappointments  which  inventors 
had  to  contend  with  before  they  could  get  their  discoveries 
introduced,  and  the  frauds  by  which  in  most  cases  they  were 
swindled  out  of  the  profits  of  them  by  the  capitalists  through 
whom  their  introduction  was  obtained.  These  stories  seem, 
indeed,  well-nigh  incredible  nowadays,  when  the  nation  is 
alert  and  eager  to  foster  and  encourage  every  stirring  of  the 
inventive  spirit,  and  every  one  with  any  sort  of  new  idea 
can  command  the  offices  of  the  administration  without  cost 
to  safeguard  his  claim  to  priority  and  to  furnish  him  all 
possible  facilities  of  information,  material,  and  appliances 
to  perfect  his  conception." 

"Considering,"  said  the  doctor,  "that  these  facts  as  to 
the  resistance  offered  by  vested  interests  to  the  march  of  im- 
provement must  have  been  even  more  obvious  to  our  ances- 
tors than  to  us,  how  do  you  account  for  the  belief  they  seem 
to  have  sincerely  held  that  private  capitalism  as  a  system 
was  favorable  to  invention  ? " 

"Doubtless,"  replied  the  girl,  "it  was  because  they  saw 
that  whenever  an  invention  was  introduced  it  was  under 
the  patronage  of  capitalists.  This  was,  of  course,  necessarily 
so  because  all  economic  initiative  was  confined  to  the  capi- 
talists. Our  forefathers,  observing  that  inventions  when 
introduced  at  all  were  introduced  through  the  machinery  of 
private  capitalism,  overlooked  the  fact  that  usually  it  was 
only  after  exhausting  its  power  as  an  obstruction  to  inven- 
tion that  capital  lent  itself  to  its  advancement.  They  were 
in  this  respect  like  children  who,  seeing  the  water  pouring 
over  the  edge  of  a  dam  and  coming  over  nowhere  else, 
should  conclude  that  the  dam  was  an  agency  for  aiding  the 
flow  of  the  river  instead  of  being  an  obstruction  which  let 
it  over  only  when  it  could  be  kept  back  no  longer." 

"  Our  lesson,"  said  the  teacher,  "  relates  in  strictness  only 
to  the  economic  results  of  the  old  order,  but  at  times  the 


228  EQUALITY. 

theme  suggests  aspects  of  former  social  conditions  too  im- 
portant to  pass  Avithout  mention.  We  have  seen  how  ob- 
structive was  the  system  of  vested  interests  which  underlaid 
private  capitalism  to  the  introduction  of  improvements  and 
inventions  in  the  economic  field.  But  there  was  another 
field  in  which  the  same  influence  was  exerted  with  effects 
really  far  more  important  and  disastrous. — Tell  us,  Flor- 
ence, something  of  the  manner  in  which  the  vested  interest 
system  tended  to  resist  the  advance  of  new  ideas  in  the  field 
of  thought,  of  morals,  science,  and  religion.'' 

u  Previous  to  the  great  Revolution,"  the  girl  replied, 
"  tlie  highest  education  not  being  universal  as  with  us,  but 
limited  to  a  small  bod}^  the  members  of  this  body,  known  as 
tlie  leai'ned  and  professional  classes,  necessarily  became  the 
moral  and  intellectual  teachers  and  leaders  of  the  nation. 
They  molded  the  thoughts  of  the  people,  set  them  their 
standards,  and  through  the  control  of  their  minds  domi- 
nated their  material  interests  and  determined  the  course  of 
civilization.  No  such  power  is  now  monopolized  by  any 
class,  because  the  high  level  of  general  education  would 
make  it  impossible  for  any  class  of  mere  men  to  lead  the 
people  blindly.  Seeing,  however,  that  such  a  power  was 
exercised  in  that  day  and  limited  to  so  small  a  class,  it  was 
a  most  vital  point  that  this  class  should  be  qualified  to  dis- 
charge so  responsible  a  duty  in  a  spirit  of  devotion  to  the 
general  weal  unbiased  by  distracting  motives.  But  under 
the  system  of  private  capitalism,  which  made  every  person 
.  and  group  economically  dependent  upon  and  exclusively 
concerned  in  the  i)rosperity  of  the  occupation  followed  by 
himself  and  his  group,  this  ideal  was  impossible  of  attain- 
ment. The  learned  class,  the  teachers,  the  preachers,  writers, 
and  professional  men  were  only  tradesmen  after  all,  just 
like  .the  shoemakers  and  the  carpenters,  and  their  welfare 
was  absolutely  bound  up  with  the  demand  for  the  particu- 
lar sets  of  ideas  and  doctrines  they  represented  and  the  par- 
ticular sorts  of  professional  services  they  got  their  living  by 
rendering.  Each  man's  line  of  teaching  or  preaching  was 
his  vested  interest — the  means  of  his  livelihood.  That  being 
so,  the  members  of  the  learned  and  professional  class  were 
bound  to  be  affected  by  innovations  in  their  departments 


HOSTILITY  OF  VESTED  INTERESTS  TO  PROGRESS.  229 

precisely  as  shoemakers  or  carpenters  by  inventions  affect- 
ing their  trades.  It  necessarily  followed  that  when  any 
new  idea  was  suggested  in  religion,  in  medicine,  in  science, 
in  economics,  in  sociology,  and  indeed  in  almost  any  field  of 
thought,  the  first  question  which  the  learned  body  having 
charge  of  that  field  and  making  a  living  out  of  it  would  ask 
itself  was  not  whether  the  idea  was  good  and  true  and  would 
tend  to  the  general  welfare,  but  how  it  would  immediately 
and  dii'ectly  affect  the  set  of  doctrines,  traditions,  and  institu- 
tions, with  the  prestige  of  which  their  own  personal  inter- 
ests were  identified.  If  it  w^as  a  new  religious  conception 
that  had  been  suggested,  the  clergyman  considered,  first  of 
all,  how  it  would  affect  his  sect  and  his  personal  standing  in 
it.  If  it  were  a  new  medical  idea,  the  doctor  asked  first  how 
it  would  affect  the  practice  of  the  school  he  was  identified 
with.  If  it  was  a  new  economic  or  social  theory,  then  all 
those  whose  professional  capital  was  their  reputation  as 
teachers  in  that  branch  questioned  first  how  the  new  idea 
agreed  with  the  doctrine::  and  traditions  constituting  their 
stock  in  trade.  Now,  as  any  new  idea,  almost  as  a  matter 
of  course,  must  operate  to  discredit  previous  ideas  in  the 
same  field,  it  followed  that  the  economic  self-interest  of  the 
learned  classes  would  instinctively  and  almost  invariably 
be  opposed  to  reform  or  advance  of  thought  in  their  fields. 

''  Being  human,  they  were  scarcely  more  to  be  blamed 
for  involuntarily  regarding  new  ideas  in  their  specialties 
with  aversion  than  tlie  weaver  or  the  brickmaker  for  re- 
sisting the  introduction  of  inventions  calculated  to  take  the 
bread  out  of  his  mouth.  And  yet  consider  what  a  tremen- 
dous, almost  insurmountable,  obstacle  to  human  progress 
was  presented  by  the  fact  that  the  intellectual  leaders  of  the 
nations  and  the  molders  of  the  people's  thoughts,  by  their 
economic  dependence  upon  vested  interests  in  established 
ideas,  were  biased  against  progress  by  the  strongest  mo- 
tives of  self-interest.  When  we  give  due  thought  to  the 
significance  of  this  fact,  we  shall  find  ourselves  wondering 
no  longer  at  the  slow  rate  of  human  advance  in  the  past, 
but  rather  that  there  should  have  been  any  advance  at  all." 


IG 


230  EQUALITY. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

HOW  THE   PROFIT  SYSTEM  NULLIFIED   THE   BENEFIT  OF 
INVENTIONS. 

"  The  general  subject  of  the  hostility  of  private  capital- 
ism to  progress,"  pursued  the  teacher,  "  divides  itself,  as  I 
said,  into  two  branches.  First,  the  constitutional  antago- 
nism between  a  system  of  distinct  and  separate  vested  in- 
terests and  all  unsettling  changes  w^hich,  whatever  their 
ultimate  effect,  must  be  directly  damaging  to  tliose  inter- 
ests. We  will  now  ask  you,  Harold,  to  take  up  the  second 
branch  of  the  subject — namely,  the  effect  of  the  profit  prin- 
ciple to  minimize,  if  not  wholly  to  nullify,  the  benefit  to  the 
community  of  such  inventions  and  improvements  as  w^ere 
able  to  overcome  the  antagonism  of  vested  interests  so  far  as 
to  get  themselves  introduced.  The  nineteenth  century,  in- 
cluding the  last  quarter  of  the  eighteenth,  was  marked  by 
an  astonishing  and  absolutely  unprecedented  number  of 
great  inventions  in  economic  processes.  To  what  was  this 
outburst  of  inventive  genius  due  ? " 

"  To  the  same  cause,"  replied  the  boy,  "  which  accounts 
for  the  rise  of  the  democratic  movement  and  the  idea  of 
human  equality  during  the  same  period — that  is  to  say,  the 
diffusion  of  intelligence  among  the  masses,  which,  for  the 
first  time  becoming  somew^hat  general,  multiplied  ten-thou- 
sandfold the  thinking  force  of  mankind,  and,  in  the  political 
aspect  of  the  matter,  changed  the  purpose  of  that  thinking 
from  the  interest  of  the  few  to  that  of  the  many." 

"  Our  ancestors,"  said  the  teacher,  "  seeing  that  this  out- 
burst of  invention  took  place  under  private  capitalism,  as- 
sumed that  there  must  be  something  in  that  system  pecul- 
iarly favorable  to  the  genius  of  invention.  Have  you  any- 
thing to  say  on  that  point  beyond  what  has  been  said  ? " 

"Nothing,"  replied  the  boy,  "except  that  by  the  same 
rule  we  ought  to  give  credit  to  the  institutions  of  royalty, 
nobility,  and  plutocracy  for  the  democratic  idea  which 
under  their  fostering  influence  during  the  same  period  grew 
to  flowering  in  the  great  Revolution." 

"  I  think  that  will   do  on   that  point,"   answered    the 


HOW  PROFITS  NULLIFIED   INVENTIONS.        231 

teacher.  "  We  will  now  ask  you  to  tell  us  sometliiug-  more 
particularly  of  this  great  period  of  invention  which  began 
in  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  century." 

HAROLD    STATES   THE   FACTS. 

"From  the  times  of  antiquity  up  to  the  last  quarter 
of  the  eighteenth  century,"  said  the  lad,  "  there  had  been 
almost  no  progress  in  the  mechanical  sciences  save  as  to 
shipbuilding  and  arms.  From  1780,  or  thereabouts,  dates 
the  beginning  of  a  series  of  discoveries  of  sources  of  power, 
and  their  application  by  machinery  to  economic  purposes, 
which,  during  the  century  following,  completely  revolu- 
tionized the  conditions  of  industry  and  commerce.  Steam 
and  coal  meant  a  multiplication  of  human  energy  in  the 
production  of  w^ealth  w^hich  was  almost  incalculable.  For 
industrial  purposes  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  they  trans- 
formed man  from  a  pygmy  to  a  Titan.  These  were,  of 
course,  only  the  greatest  factors  in  a  countless  variety  of 
discoveries  by  w^hich  prodigious  economies  of  labor  were 
ett'ected  in  every  detail  of  the  arts  by  which  human  life  is 
maintained  and  ministered  to.  In  agriculture,  w^here  Na- 
ture, which  can  not  be  too  much  hurried,  is  a  large  partner, 
and  wherein,  therefore,  man's  part  is  less  controlling  than  in 
other  industries,  it  might  be  expected  that  the  increase  of 
productive  energy  through  human  invention  would  be  least. 
Yet  here  it  w^as  estimated  that  agricultural  machinery,  as 
most  perfectly  developed  in  America,  had  multiplied  some 
afteenfold  the  product  of  the  individual  worker.  In  most 
sorts  of  production  less  directly  dependent  upon  Nature,  in- 
vention during  this  period  had  multiplied  the  efficiency  of 
labor  in  a  much  greater  degree,  ranging  from  fifty  and  a 
hundred-fold  to  several  thousand-fold,  one  man  being  able 
to  accomplish  as  much  as  a  small  army  in  all  previous  ages." 
"  That  is  to  say,"  said  the  teacher,  "  it  would  seem  that 
while  the  needs  of  the  human  race  had  not  increased,  its 
power  to  supply  those  needs  had  been  indefinitely  multi- 
plied. This  prodigious  increase  in  the  potency  of  labor  was 
a  clear  net  economic  gain  for  the  world,  such  as  the  previous 
history  of  the  race  furnished  nothing  comparable  to.  It 
was  as  if  God  had  given  to  man  his  power  of  attorney  in 


232  EQUALITY. 

full,  to  command  all  the  forces  of  the  universe  to  serve  him. 
Now,  Harold,  suppose  you  had  merely  been  told  as  much  as 
you  have  told  us  concerning-  the  hundredfold  multiplication 
of  the  wealth-producing-  power  of  the  race  which  took  place 
at  this  period,  and  were  left,  without  further  information,  to 
infer  for  yourself  how  great  a  change  for  the  better  in  the 
condition  of  mankind  would  naturally  follow,  what  would 
it  seem  reasonable  to  suppose  ? " 

"It  would  seem  safe  to  take  for  granted  at  the  least,'' 
replied  the  boy,  "  that  every  form  of  human  unhappiness  or 
imperfection  resulting  directly  or  indirectly  from  economic 
want  would  be  absolutely  banished  from  the  earth.  That  the 
very  meaning  of  the  word  poverty  would  have  been  forgotten 
would  seem  to  be  a  matter-of-course  assumption  to  begin  with. 
Beyond  that  we  might  go  on  and  fancy  almost  anything  in 
the  way  of  universal  diffusion  of  luxury  that  we  pleased. 
The  facts  given  as  the  basis  of  the  speculation  would  justify 
the  wildest  day-dreams  of  universal  happiness,  so  far  as  ma- 
terial abundance  could  directly  or  indirectly  minister  to  it." 

"Very  good,  Harold.  We  know  now  what  to  expect 
when  you  shall  go  on  to  tell  us  what  the  historical  facts 
are  as  to  the  degree  of  improvement  in  the  economic  con- 
dition of  the  mass  of  the  race,  which  actually  did  result 
from  the  great  inventions  of  the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth 
centuries.  Take  the  condition  of  the  mass  of  the  people  in 
the  advanced  countries  at  the  close  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, after  they  had  been  enjoying  the  benefits  -of  coal  and 
steam,  and  the  most  of  the  other  great  inventions  for  a  cen- 
tury, more  or  less,  and  comparing  it  with  their  condition, 
say,  in  1780,  give  us  some  idea  of  the  change  for  the  better 
which  had  taken  place  in  their  economic  welfare.  Doubt- 
less it  ^vas  something  marvelous." 

"  It  was  a  subject  of  much  nice  debate  and  close  figuring," 
replied  the  boy,  ''  whether  in  the  most  advanced  countries 
there  had  been,  taking  one  class  with  another,  and  disregard- 
ing mere  changes  in  fashions,  any  real  improvement  at  all 
in  the  economic  basis  of  the  great  majority  of  the  people." 

"Is  it  possible  that  the  improvement  had  been  so  small 
that  there  could  be  a  question  raised  whether  there  had  been 
anv  at  all  ? " 


HOW  PROFITS  NULLIFIED  INVENTIONS.        233 

'^Precisely  so.  As  to  the  English  people  in  the  nine- 
teenth century,  Florence  has  given  us  the  facts  in  speaking 
of  the  effects'^of  foreign  commerce.  The  English  had  not 
only  a  greater  foreign  commerce  than  any  other  nation,  but 
had  also  made  earlier  and  fuller  use  of  the  great  inventions 
than  any  other.  She  has  told  us  that  the  sociologists  of  the 
time  had  no  difficulty  in  proving  that  the  economic  condi- 
tion of  the  English  people  was  more  wretched  m  the  latter 
part  of  the  nineteenth  century  than  it  had  been  centuries 
previous  before  steam  had  been  thought  of,  and  that  this 
was  equally  true  of  the  peoples  of  the  Low  Countries,  and 
the  masses  of  Germany.  As  to  the  working  masses  of  Italy 
and  Spain,  they  had  been  in  much  better  economic  condition 
durino-  periods  of  the  Eoman  Empire  than  they  were  m  the 
nineteenth  century.  If  the  French  were  a  little  better  off  in 
the  nineteenth  than  in  the  eighteenth  century,  it  was  owing 
wholly  to  the  distribution  of  land  effected  by  the  French 
Revolution,  and  in  no  way  to  the  great  inventions." 
"  How  was  it  in  the  United  States  ? " 

"  If  America,"  replied  the  lad,  ''  had  shown  a  notable  im- 
provement in  the  condition  of  the  people,  it  would  not  be 
necessary  to  ascribe  it  to  the  progress  of  invention,  for  the 
wonderful  economic  opportunities  of  a  new  country  had 
given  them  a  vast  though  necessarily  temporary  advantage 
over  other  nations.  It  does  not  appear,  however,  that  there 
was  any  more  agreement  of  testimony  as  to  whether  the 
condition  of  the  masses  had  on  the  whole  improved  in 
America  than  in  the  Old  World.  In  the  last  decade  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  with  a  view  to  allaying  the  discon- 
tent of  the  wage-earners  and  the  farmers,  which  was  then 
beginning  to  swell  to  revolutionary  volume,  agents  of  the 
United  States  Government  published  elaborate  comparisons 
of  wages  and  prices,  in  which  they  argued  out  a  small  per- 
centage of  gain  on  the  whole  in  the  economic  condition  of 
the  American  artisans  during  the  century.  At  this  distance 
we  can  not,  of  course,  criticise  these  calculations  in  detail, 
but  we  may  base  a  reasonable  doubt  of  the  conclusion  that 
the  condition  of  the  masses  had  very  greatly  improved  upon 
the  existence  of  the  popular  discontent  which  they  were 
published  in  the  vain  hope  of  moderating.     It  seems  safe  to 


234  EQUALITY. 

assume  that  the  i^eople  were  better  acquainted  with  their  own 
condition  than  the  sociologists,  and  it  is  certain  that  it  was 
the  growing  conviction  of  the  American  masses  during  the 
closing  decades  of  the  nineteenth  century  that  they  were  los- 
ing ground  economically  and  in  danger  of  sinking  into  the 
degraded  condition  of  the  proletariat  and  peasantry  of  the 
ancient  and  contemporary  European  world.  Against  the 
laborious  tabulations  of  the  apologists  of  capitalism  we  may 
adduce,  as  far  superior  and  more  convincing  evidence  of  the 
economic  tendency  of  the  American  people  during  the  latter 
part  of  the  nineteenth  century,  such  signs  of  the  times  as 
the  gi'owth  of  beggary  and  vagabondage  to  Old  World  i)ro- 
portions,  the  embittered  revolts  of  the  vrage-earners  which 
kept  up  a  constant  industrial  war,  and  finally  the  condi- 
tion of  bankruptcy  into  which  the  farming  population  v/as 
sinking." 

''  That  will  do  as  to  that  point,"  said  the  teacher.  "  In 
such  a  comparison  as  this  small  margins  and  nice  points  of 
difference  are  impertinent.  It  is  enough  that  if  the  indefi- 
nite multiplication  of  man's  wealth-producing  power  by 
inventive  progress  had  been  developed  and  distributed  with 
any  degree  of  intelligence  for  the  general  interest,  poverty 
would  have  disappeared  and  comfort  if  not  luxury  have  be- 
come the  univereal  condition.  This  being  a  fact  as  plain 
and  large  as  the  sun,  it  is  needless  to  consider  the  hair- 
splitting debates  of  the  economists  as  to  whether  the  condi- 
tion of  this  or  that  class  of  the  masses  in  this  or  that  country 
was  a  grain  better  or  two  grains  worse  than  it  had  been.  It 
is  enough  for  the  purpose  of  the  argument  that  nobody  any- 
where in  any  country  pretended  that  there  had  been  an  im- 
provement noticeable  enough  to  make  even  a  beginning 
toward  that  complete  transformation  in  the  human  condi- 
tion for  the  better,  of  which  the  great  inventions  by  universal 
admission  had  contained  the  full  and  immediate  promise 
and  potency. 

"  And  ]iow  tell  us,  Harold,  what  our  ancestors  had  to  say 
as  to  this  astonishing  fact — a  fact  more  marvelous  than  the 
great  inventions  themselves,  namely,  their  failure  to  prove 
of  any  considerable  benefit  to  m.ankind.  Surely  a  phenome- 
non at  once  so  amazing  in  itself  and  involving  so  prodigious 


HOW  PROFITS  NULLIFIED  INVENTIONS.        235 

a  defeat  to  the  hopes  of  human  happiness  must  have  set  a 
world  of  rational  beings  to  speculating-  in  a  very  impassioned 
Avay  as  to  what  the  explanation  might  be.  One  would  sup- 
pose that  the  facts  of  this  failm^e  with  which  our  ancestors 
were  confronted  would  have  been  enough  to  convince  them 
that  there  must  be  something  radically  and  horribly  wrong 
about  any  economic  system  which  was  responsible  for  it  or 
had  permitted  it,  and  that  no  further  argument  w^ould  have 
been  wanted  to  induce  them  to  make  a  radical  change  in  it." 
"One  would  think  so,  certainly,"  said  the  boy,  "but  it 
did  not  seem  to  occur  to  our  great-grandfathers  to  hold 
their  economic  system  to  any  responsibility  for  the  result. 
As  we  have  seen,  they  recognized,  however  they  might  dis- 
pute as  to  iDcrcentages,  that  the  great  inventions  had  failed 
to  make  any  notable  improvement  in  the  human  condition, 
but  they  never  seemed  to  get  so  far  as  to  inquire  seriously 
why  this  was  so.  In  the  voluminous  w^orks  of  the  econo- 
mists of  the  period  we  find  no  discussions,  much  less  any 
attempt  to  explain,  a  fact  Avhich  to  our  view  absolutely  over- 
shadows all  the  other  features  of  the  economic  situation  be- 
fore the  Eevolution.  And  the  strangest  thing  about  it  all 
is  that  their  failure  to  derive  any  benefit  worth  speaking  of 
from  the  progress  of  invention  in  no  way  seemed  to  dampen 
the  enthusiasm  of  our  ancestors  about  the  inventions.  They 
seemed  fairly  intoxicated  with  the  pride  of  their  achieve- 
ments, barren  of  benefit  as  they  had  been,  and  their  day 
dreams  were  of  further  discoveries  that  to  a  yet  more  amazing 
degree  should  put  the  forces  of  the  universe  at  their  disposal. 
None  of  them  apparently  paused  to  reflect  that  though  God 
might  empty  his  treasure  house  for  their  benefit  of  its  every 
secret  of  use  and  of  power,  the  race  would  not  be  a  whit  the 
better  off  for  it  unless  they  devised  some  economic  machin- 
ery by  which  these  discoveries  might  be  made  to  serve  the 
general  welfare  more  effectually  than  they  had  done  before. 
They  do  not  seem  to  have  realized  that  so  long  as  poverty 
remained,  every  new  invention  w^hich  multiplied  the  power 
of  w^ealth  production  w^as  but  one  more  charge  in  the  indict- 
ment against  their  economic  system  as  guilty  of  an  imbe- 
cility as  great  as  its  iniquity.  They  appear  to  have  wholly 
overlooked  the  fact  that  until  their  mighty  engines  should 


236  EQUxVLITY. 

be  devoted  to  increasing'  human  welfare  they  were  and 
would  continue  mere  curious  scientific  toys  of  no  more  real 
worth  or  utility  to  the  race  than  so  many  particularly  in- 
genious jumping-jacks.  This  craze  for  more  and  more  and 
ever  greater  and  wider  inventions  for  economic  purposes, 
coupled  with  apparent  complete  indifference  as  to  whether 
mankind  derived  any  ultimate  benefit  from  them  or  not, 
can  only  be  understood  by  regarding  it  as  one  of  those 
strange  ej)idemics  of  insane  excitement  which  have  been 
known  to  affect  whole  populations  at  certain  periods,  espe- 
cially of  the  middle  ages.  Rational  explanation  it  has  none.'' 
"You  may  well  say  so,"  exclaimed  the  teacher.  "Of 
what  use  indeed  was  it  that  coal  had  been  discovered,  when 
there  were  still  as  many  tireless  homes  as  ever  ?  Of  what 
use  was  the  machinery  by  which  one  man  could  weave  as 
much  cloth  as  a  thousand  a  century  before  when  there  were 
as  many  ragged,  shivering  human  beings  as  ever  ?  Of  what 
use  was  the  machinery  by  which  the  American  farmer  could 
produce  a  dozen  times  as  much  food  as  his  grandfather  when 
there  were  more  cases  of  starvation  and  a  larger  propor- 
tion of  half-fed  and  badly  fed  people  in  the  country  than 
ever  before,  and  hordes  of  homeless,  desperate  vagabonds 
traversed  the  land,  begging  for  bread  at  every  door  ?  They 
had  invented  steamships,  these  ancestors  of  ours,  that  were 
miracles,  but  their  main  business  was  transporting  paupers 
from  lands  where  they  had  been  beggared  in  spite  of  labor- 
saving  machinery  to  newer  lands  where,  after  a  short  space, 
they  would  inevitably  be  beggared  again.  About  the  mid- 
dle of  the  nineteenth  century  the  world  went  wild  over  the 
invention  of  the  sewing-machine  and  the  burden  it  was  to 
lift  from  the  shoulders  of  the  race.  Yet,  fifty  years  after, 
the  business  of  garment-making,  which  it  had  been  expected 
to  revolutionize  for  the  better,  had  become  a  slavery  both  in 
America  and  Euro^^e  which,  under  the  name  of  the  '  sweat- 
ing system,'  scandalized  even  that  tough  generation.  They 
had  lucifer  matches  instead  of  flint  and  steel,  kerosene  and 
electricity  instead  of  candles  and  whale-oil,  but  the  specta- 
cles of  squalor,  misery,  and  degradation  upon  which  the 
improved  light  shone  were  the  same  and  only  looked  the 
worse  for  it.     What  few  beggars  there  had  been  in  America 


HOW  PROFITS  NULLIFIED  INVENTIONS.        237 

in  the  first  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century  went  afoot, 
while  in  the  last  quarter  they  stole  their  transportation  on 
trains  drawn  by  steam  engines,  but  there  were  fifty  times 
as  many  beggars.  The  world  traveled  sixty  miles  an  hour 
instead  of  five  or  ten  at  the  beginning  of  the  century,  but 
it  had  not  gained  an  inch  on  poverty,  which  clung  to  it  as 
the  shadow  to  the  racer." 

HELEN   GIVES  THE   EXPLANATION   OF   THE   FACTS. 

"Now,  Helen,"  pursued  the  teacher,  "we  w^ant  you  to 
explain  the  facts  that  Harold  has  so  clearly  brought  out. 
We  want  you  to  tell  us  why  it  was  that  the  economic  con- 
dition of  humanity  derived  but  a  barely  perceptible  advan- 
tage at  most,  if  indeed  any  at  all,  from  an  inventive  progress 
whicli  by  its  indefinite  multiplication  of  productive  energy 
should  by  every  rule  of  reason  have  completely  transformed 
for  the  better  the  economic  condition  of  the  race  and  wholly 
banished  want  from  earth.  What  was  there  about  the  old 
system  of  private  capitalism  to  account  for  a  fiasco  so  tre- 
mendous ? " 

"  It  was  the  operation  of  the  profit  principle,"  replied  the 

girl  Helen. 

"  Please  proceed  wdth  the  explanation." 

"  The  great  economic  inventions  w^hich  Harold  has  been 
talking  about,"  said  the  girl,  "  were  of  the  class  of  what 
were  called  labor-saving  machines  and  devices — that  is  to 
say,  they  enabled  one  man  to  produce  more  than  before 
with  the  same  labor,  or  to  produce  the  same  as  before  with 
less  labor.  Under  a  collective  administration  of  industry 
in  the  equal  general  interest  like  ours,  the  effect  of  any  such 
invention  would  be  to  increase  the  total  output  to  be  shared 
equally  among  all,  or,  if  the  people  preferred  and  so  voted, 
the  output  would  remain  w^hat  it  w^as,  and  the  saving  of 
labor  be  appropriated  as  a  dividend  of  leisure  to  be  equally 
enjoyed  by  all.  But  under  the  old  system  there  was,  of 
course,  no  collective  administration.  Capitalists  were  the 
administrators,  being  the  only  persons  who  were  able  to 
carry  on  extensive  operations  or  take  the  initiative  in  eco- 
nomic enterprises,  and  in  what  they  did  or  did  not  do  they 
had  no  regard  to  the  public  interest  or  the  general  gain,  but 


238  EQUALITY. 

to  their  own  profit  only.  The  only  motive  which  could  in- 
duce a  capitalist  to  adopt  an  invention  was  the  idea  of  in- 
creasing his  profits  either  by  getting  a  larger  product  at  the 
same  labor  cost,  or  else  getting  the  same  product  at  a  re- 
duced labor  cost.  We  w411  take  the  first  case.  Suppose  a 
capitalist  in  adopting  labor-saving  machinery  calculated  to 
keep  all  his  former  employees  and  make  his  profit  by  get- 
ting a  larger  product  with  the  same  labor  cost.  Now,  when 
a  capitalist  proposed  to  increase  his  output  without  the  aid  of 
a  machine  he  had  to  hire  more  workers,  who  must  be  paid 
wages  to  be  afterward  expended  in  purchasing  products  in 
the  market.  In  this  case,  for  every  increase  of  product  there 
was  some  increase,  although  not  at  all  an  equal  one,  in  the 
buying  power  of  the  community.  But  when  the  capitalist  in- 
creased his  output  by  the  aid  of  machinery,  with  no  increase 
in  the  number  of  workers  employed,  there  was  no  correspond- 
ing increase  of  purchasing  jDOwer  on  the  part  of  the  commu- 
nity to  set  off  against  the  increased  product.  A  certain 
amount  of  purchasing  power  went,  indeed,  in  wages  to  the 
mechanics  who  constructed  the  labor-saving  machines,  but 
it  was  small  in  comparison  with  the  increase  in  the  output 
which  the  capitalist  expected  to  make  by  means  of  the  ma- 
chinery, otherwise  it  would  have  been  no  object  to  him  to 
buy  the  machine.  The  increased  product  would  therefore 
tend  directly  to  glut  yet  more  the  always  glutted  market ; 
and  if  any  considerable  number  of  capitalists  should  intro- 
duce machinery  in  the  same  way,  the  glut  would  become 
intensified  into  a  crisis  and  general  stoppage  of  production. 

"  In  order  to  avert  or  minimize  such  a  disaster,  the  capi- 
talists could  take  one  or  two  courses.  They  could,  if  they 
chose,  reduce  the  price  of  their  increased  machine  product 
so  that  the  purchasing  power  of  the  community,  which  had 
remained  stationary,  could  take  it  up  at  least  as  nearly  as  it 
had  taken  up  the  lesser  quantity  of  higher-priced  product 
before  the  machinery  was  introduced.  But  if  the  capitalists 
did  this,  they  would  derive  no  additional  profit  whatever 
from  the  adoption  of  the  machinery,  the  vrhole  benefit 
going  to  the  community.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that 
this  was  not  what  the  capitalists  were  in  business  for.  The 
other  course  before  them  was  to  keep  their  ])roduct  where 


HOW  PROFITS  NULLIFIED  INVENTIONS.        239 

it  was  before  introducing  the  machine,  and  to  realize  their 
profit  by  discliarg'i ng  tlie  workers,  thus  saving  on  the  labor 
cost  of  the  output.  This  was  the  course  most  commonly- 
taken,  because  the  glut  of  goods  w^as  generally  so  threaten- 
ing that,  except  when  inventions  opened  up  wholly  new 
fields,  capitalists  were  careful  not  greatly  to  increase  out- 
puts. For  example,  if  the  machine  enabled  one  man  to  do 
two  men's  work,  the  capitalist  would  discharge  half  of  his 
force,  put  the  saving  in  labor  cost  in  his  pocket,  and  still 
produce  as  many  goods  as  ever.  Moreover,  there  was  an- 
other advantage  about  this  plan.  The  discharged  workers 
swelled  the  numbers  of  the  unemployed,  who  were  under- 
bidding one  another  for  the  opportunity  to  work.  The  in- 
creased desperation  of  this  competition  made  it  possible 
presently  for  the  capitalist  to  reduce  the  wages  of  the  half 
of  his  former  force  which  he  still  retained.  That  was  the 
usual  result  of  the  introduction  of  labor-saving  machinery : 
First,  the  discharge  of  workers,  then,  after  more  or  less  time, 
reduced  wages  for  those  who  were  retained. 

"  If  I  understand  you,  then,"  said  the  teacher,  "  the  effect 
of  labor-saving  inventions  was  either  to  increase  the  prod- 
uct without  any  corresponding  increase  in  the  purchasing 
power  of  the  community,  thereby  aggravating  the  glut  of 
goods,  or  else  to  positively  decrease  the  purchasing  power  of 
the  community,  through  discharges  and  wage  reductions, 
while  the  product  remained  the  same  as  before.  That  is  to 
say,  the  net  result  of  labor-saving  machinery  was  to  increase 
the  difference  between  the  production  and  consumption  of 
the  community  which  remained  in  the  hands  of  the  capital- 
ists as  profit." 

''  Precisely  so.  The  only  motive  of,  the  capitalist  in  in- 
introducing  labor-saving  machinery  w^as  to  retain  as  profit 
a  larger  share  of  the  product  than  before  by  cutting  down 
the  share  of  labor — that  is  to  say,  labor-saving  machinery 
which  should  have  banished  poverty  from  the  world  became 
the  means  under  the  profit  system  of  impoverishing  the 
masses  more  rapidly  than  ever." 

"  But  did  not  the  competition  among  the  capitalists  com- 
pel them  to  sacrifice  a  part  of  these  increased  profits  in  re- 
ductions of  prices  in  order  to  get  rid  of  their  goods  ? " 


240  EQUALITY. 

''  Undoubtedly ;  but  such  reductions  in  price  would  not 
increase  the  consuming  power  of  the  people  except  when 
taken  out  of  profits,  and,  as  John  explained  to  us  this  morn- 
ing", when  capitalists  were  forced  by  competition  to  reduce 
their  prices  they  saved  their  profits  as  long  as  possible  by 
making  up  for  the  reductions  in  price  by  debasing  the  qual- 
ity of  the  goods  or  cutting  down  w^ages  until  the  public  and 
the  w^age-earners  could  be  cheated  and  squeezed  no  longer. 
Then  only  did  they  begin  to  sacrifice  profits,  and  it  was  then 
too  late  for  the  impoverished  consumers  to  respond  by  in- 
creasing consumption.  It  was  always,  as  John  told  us,  in 
the  countries  where  the  people  were  poorest  that  the  prices 
were  lowest,  but  without  benefit  to  the  people." 

THE  AMERICAN  FARMER  AND  MACHINERY. 

"And  now,"  said  the  teacher,  "I  want  to  ask  you  some- 
thing about  the  eifect  of  labor-saving  inventions  upon  a 
class  of  so-called  capitalists  who  made  up  the  greater  half 
of  the  American  people — I  mean  the  farmers.  In  so  far 
as  they  owned  their  farms  and  tools,  how-ever  encumbered 
by  debts  and  mortgages,  they  were  technically  capitalists, 
although  themselves  quite  as  pitiable  victims  of  the  capital- 
ists as  were  the  proletarian  artisans.  The  agricultural  labor- 
saving  inventions  of  the  nineteenth  century  in  America 
were  something  simply  marvelous,  enabling,  as  we  have 
been  told,  one  man  to  do  the  w^ork  of  fifteen  a  century  before. 
Nevertheless,  the  American  farmer  was  going  straight  to 
the  dogs  all  the  while  these  inventions  were  being  intro- 
duced. Now,  how  do  you  account  for  that  ?  Why  did 
not  the  farmer,  as  a  sort  of  capitalist,  pile  up  his  profits  on 
labor-saving  machinery  like  the  other  capitalists  ?" 

"As  I  have  said,"  replied  the  girl,  "the  profits  made  by 
labor-saving  machinery  resulted  from  the  increased  produc- 
tiveness of  the  labor  employed,  thus  enabling  the  capitalist 
either  to  turn  out  a  greater  product  with  the  same  labor  cost 
or  an  equal  product  with  a  less  labor  cost,  the  w^orkers  sup- 
planted by  the  machine  being  discharged.  The  amount  of 
profits  made  was  therefore  dependent  on  the  scale  of  the 
business  carried  on — that  is,  the  number  of  w^orkers  em- 
ployed and  the  consequent  figure  which  labor  cost  made  in 


HOW  PEOFITS  NULLIFIED  INVENTIONS.        241 

the  business.  When  farming"  was  carried  on  upon  a  very- 
large  scale,  as  were  the  so-called  bonanza  farms  in  the  United 
States  of  that  period,  consisting  of  twenty  to  thirt}^  thousand 
acres  of  land,  the  capitalists  conducting  them  did  for  a  time 
make  great  profits,  Avhich  were  directly  owing  to  the  labor- 
saving  agricultural  machines,  and  would  have  been  impos- 
sible without  tliem.  These  machines  enabled  them  to  put 
a  greatly  increased  product  on  the  market  Avith  small 
increase  of  labor  cost  or  else  the  same  product  at  a  great 
decrease  of  labor  cost.  But  the  mass  of  the  American  farm- 
ers operated  on  a  small  scale  onl}'-  and  employed  very  little 
labor,  doing  largely  their  own  work.  They  could  therefore 
make  little  profit,  if  anj-,  out  of  labor-saving  machiner}^  by 
discharging  employees.  The  only  w^ay  they  could  utilize  it 
was  not  by  cutting  dowai  the  expense  of  their  output  but 
by  increasing-  the  amount  of  the  output  through  the  in- 
creased efficienc}^  of  their  own  labor.  But  seeing  that  there 
had  been  no  increase  meanwiiile  in  the  purchasing  power 
of  the  community  at  large,  there  w^as  no  more  money  de- 
mand for  their  products  than  before,  and  consequently  if 
the  general  body  of  farmers  through  labor-saving  machinery 
increased  their  outjDut,  thej^  could  dispose  of  the  greater  ag- 
gregate only  at  a  reduced  price,  so  that  in  the  end  they 
would  get  no  more  for  the  greater  output  than  for  the  less. 
Indeed,  they  would  not  get  so  much,  for  the  eflPect  of  even  a 
small  surplus  when  held  by  weak  capitalists  who  could  not 
keep  it  back,  but  must  x^ress  for  sale,  had  an  effect  to  reduce 
the  market  price  quite  out  of  j)roportion  to  the  amount  of 
the  surplus.  In  the  United  States  the  mass  of  these  small 
farmers  was  so  great  and  their  pressure  to  sell  so  desperate 
that  in  the  latter  part  of  the  century  they  destroyed  the  mar- 
ket not  only  for  themselves  but  finally  even  for  the  great 
capitalists  who  conducted  the  great  farms." 

"  The  conclusion  is,  then,  Helen,"  said  the  teacher,  "that 
the  net  effect  of  labor-saving  machinery  upon  the  mass  of 
small  farmers  in  the  United  States  w^as  ruinous." 

"Undoubtedly,"  replied  the  girl.  "This  is  a  case  in 
which  the  historical  facts  absolutely  confirm  the  rational 
theory.  Thanks  to  the  profit  system,  inventions  which 
multiplied  the  productive  powder  of  the  farmer  fifteen  fold 


242  EQUALITY. 

made  a  bankrupt  of  him,  and  so  long"  as  the  profit  system 
was  retained  there  was  no  help  for  him." 

"  Were  farmers  the  onl}"  class  of  small  capitalists  who 
were  injured  rather  than  helped  by  labor-saving  machinery  ?" 

"  The  rule  was  the  same  for  all  small  capitalists  whatever 
business  they  were  engaged  in.  Its  basis,  as  I  have  said, 
was  the  fact  that  the  advantage  to  be  gained  by  the  capital- 
ists from  introducing  labor-saving  machinery  was  in  pro- 
portion to  the  amount  of  labor  which  the  machinery  enabled 
them  to  dispense  with — that  is  to  say,  was  dependent  upon  the 
scale  of  their  business.  If  the  scale  of  the  capitalist's  opera- 
tions was  so  small  that  he  could  not  make  a  large  saving  in  re- 
duced labor  cost  by  introducing  machinery,  then  the  introduc- 
tion of  such  machinery  put  him  at  a  crushing  disadvantage  as 
compared  with  larger  capitalists.  Labor-saving  machinery 
was  in  this  way  one  of  the  most  potent  of  the  influences 
which  toward  the  close  of  the  nineteenth  century  made  it 
impossible  for  the  small  capitalists  in  any  field  to  compete 
with  the  great  ones,  and  helped  to  concentrate  the  economic 
dominion  of  the  world  in  few  and  ever  fewer  hands." 

"  Suppose,  Helen,  that  the  Revolution  had  not  come,  that 
labor-saving  machinery  had  continued  to  be  invented  as  fast 
as  ever,  and  that  the  consolidation  of  the  gi'eat  capitalists' 
interests,  already  foreshadowed,  had  been  completed,  so  that 
the  waste  of  profits  in  competition  among  themselves  had 
ceased,  what  would  have  been  the  result  ? " 

"In  that  case,"  replied  the  girl,  "all  the  wealth  that  had 
been  wasted  in  commercial  rivalry  would  have  been  ex- 
pended in  luxury  in  addition  to  what  had  been  formerly  so 
expended.  The  new  machinery  year  by  year  would  have 
gone  on  making  it  possible  for  a  smaller  and  ever  smaller 
fraction  of  the  population  to  produce  all  the  necessaries  for 
the  support  of  mankind,  and  the  rest  of  the  world,  includ- 
ing the  great  mass  of  the  workers,  would  have  found  em- 
ployment in  unproductive  labor  to  provide  the  materials  of 
luxury  for  the  rich  or  in  personal  services  to  them.  The 
world  would  thus  come  to  be  divided  into  three  classes :  a 
master  caste,  very  limited  in  nurnbers ;  a  vast  body  of  unpro- 
ductive workers  employed  in  ministering  to  the  luxury  and 
pomp  of  the  master  caste ;  and  a  small  body  of  .strictly  pro- 


HOW  PROFITS  NULLIFIED  INVENTIONS.        243 

ductive  workers,  which,  owing  to  the  perfection  of  ma- 
chinery, would  be  able  to  provide  for  the  needs  of  all.  It 
is  needless  to  say  that  all  save  the  masters  would  be  at  the 
minimum  point  as  to  means  of  subsistence.  Decaying  em- 
pires in  ancient  times  have  often  presented  such  spectacles 
of  imperial  and  aristocratic  splendor,  to  the  supply  and 
maintenance  of  which  the  labor  of  starving-  nations  was 
devoted.  But  no  such  spectacle  ever  presented  in  the  past 
would  have  been  comparable  to  that  which  the  twentieth 
century  would  have  witnessed  if  the  great  Revolution  had 
permitted  private  capitalism  to  complete  its  evolution.  In 
former  ages  the  great  mass  of  the  population  has  been 
necessarily  employed  in  productive  labor  to  supply  the 
needs  of  the  world,  so  that  the  portion  of  the  working  force 
available  for  the  service  of  the  pomp  and  pleasures  of  the 
masters  as  unproductive  laborers  has  always  been  relatively 
small.  But  in  the  plutocratic  empire  we  are  imagining,  the 
genius  of  invention,  through  labor-saving  machinery,  would 
have  enabled  the  masters  to  devote  a  greater  proportion  of 
the  subject  population  to  the  direct  service  of  their  state  and 
luxury  than  had  been  possible  under  any  of  the  historic 
despotisms.  The  abhorrent  spectacles  of  men  enthroned  as 
gods  above  abject  and  worshiping  masses,  which  Assyria, 
Egypt,  Persia,  and  Rome  exhibited  in  their  day,  would  have 
been  eclipsed." 

"  That  will  do,  Helen,"  said  the  teacher.  "  With  your 
testimony  we  will  wind  up  our  review  of  the  economic 
system  of  private  capitalism  which  the  great  Revolution 
abolished  forever.  There  are  of  course  a  multitude  of  other 
aspects  and  branches  of  the  subject  which  we  might  take 
up,  but  the  study  would  be  as  unprofitable  as  depressing. 
We  have,  I  think,  covered  the  essential  points.  If  you  un- 
derstand why  and  how  profits,  rent,  and  interest  operated  to 
limit  the  consuming  power  of  most  of  the  community  to  a 
fractional  part  of  its  productive  power,  thereby  in  turn  cor- 
respondingly crippling  the  latter,  you  have  the  open  secret 
of  the  poverty  of  the  world  before  the  Revolution,  and  of 
the  impossibility  of  any  important  or  lasting  improvement 
from  any  source  whatever  in  the  economic  circumstances 
of  mankind,  until  and  unless  private  capitalism,  of  which 


244  EQUALITY. 

the  profit  system  with  rent  and  interest  were  necessary'and 
inseparable  parts,  should  be  put  an  end  to." 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

I   RECEIVE   AN   OVATION. 

"And  now,"  the  teacher  went  on,  glancing-  at  the  gallery 
where  the  doctor  and  I  had  been  sitting  unseen,  "  I  have  a 
great  surprise  for  you.  Among  those  who  have  listened  to 
your  recitation  to-day,  both  in  the  forenoon  and  afternoon, 
has  been  a  certain  personage  whose  identity  you  ought  to 
be  able  to  infer  when  I  say  that,  of  all  persons  now  on 
earth,  he  is  absolutely  the  one  best  able,  and  the  only  one 
fully  able,  to  judge  how  accurate  your  portrayal  of  nine- 
teenth-century conditions  has  been.  Lest  the  knowledge 
should  disturb  your  equanimity,  I  have  refrained  from  tell- 
ing you,  until  the  present  moment,  that  we  have  present 
with  us  this  afternoon  a  no  less  distinguished  visitor  than 
Julian  West,  and  that  with  great  kindness  he  has  consented 
to  permit  me  to  present  you  to  him." 

I  had  assented,  rather  reluctantly^,  to  the  teacher's  re- 
quest, not  being  desirous  of  exposing  myself  unnecessarily 
to  curious  staring.  But  I  had  yet  to  make  the  acquaintance 
of  twentieth-century  boys  and  girls.  When  they  came 
around  me  it  was  easy  to  see  in  the  wistful  eyes  of  the  girls 
and  the  moved  faces  of  the  boys  how  deeply  their  imagina- 
tions were  stirred  by  the  suggestions  of  my  presence  among 
them,  and  how  far  their  sentiment  was  from  one  of  common 
or  frivolous  curiosity.  The  interest  they  showed  in  me 
was  so  wholly  and  delicately  sympathetic  that  it  could  not 
have  offended  the  most  sensitive  temperament. 

This  had  indeed  been  the  attitude  of  all  the  persons 
of  mature  years  whom  I  had  met,  but  I  had  scarcely  ex- 
pected the  same  considerateness  from  school  children.  I 
had  not.  it  seemed,  sufficiently  allowed  for  the  influence 
upon  manners  of  the  atmosphere  of  refinement  which  sur- 
rounds the  child  of  to-day  from  the  cradle.     These  young 


WHAT  UNIVERSAL  CULTURE  MEANS.  2J:5 

people  had  never  seen  coarseness,  rudeness,  or  brusqueness 
on  the  part  of  any  one.  Their  confidence  had  never  been 
abused,  their  synipatliy  wounded,  or  their  suspicion  excited. 
Having  never  imagined  such  a  thing  as  a  person  socially 
superior  or  inferior  to  themselves,  they  had  never  learned 
but  one  sort  of  manners.  Having  never  had  any  occasion 
to  create  a  false  or  deceitful  impression  or  to  accomplisli 
anything  by  indirection,  it  was  natural  that  they  should 
not  know  what  affectation  was. 

Truly,  it  is  tliese  secondary  consequences,  these  moral 
and  social  reactions  of  economic  equality  to  create  a  noble 
atmosphere  of  human  intercourse,  that,  after  all,  have  been 
the  greatest  contribution  which  the  principle  has  made  to 
human  happiness. 

At  once  I  found  myself  talking  and  jesting  with  the 
young  people  as  easily  as  if  I  had  always  known  them,  and 
what  with  their  interest  in  what  I  told  them  of  the  old-timo 
schools,  and  my  delight  in  their  naive  comments,  an  hour 
slipped  away  unnoticed.  Youth  is  always  inspiring,  and 
the  atmosphere  of  these  fresh,  beautiful,  ingenuous  lives  was 
like  a  wine  bath. 

Florence !  Esther !  Helen  !  Marion  !  Margaret !  G-eorgo ! 
Robert !  Harold  I  Paul  I^Never  shall  I  forget  that  group  of 
star-eyed  girls  and  splendid  lads,  in  whom  I  first  made  ac- 
quaintance with  the  boys  and  girls  of  the  twentieth  century. 
Can  it  be  that  God  sends  sweeter  souls  to  earth  now  that  the 
world  is  so  much  fitter  for  them  ? 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

WHAT  UNIVERSAL   CULTURE   MEANS. 

It  was  one  of  those  Indian  summer  afternoons  when  it 
seems  sinful  waste  of  opportunity  to  spend  a  needless  hour 
within.  Being  in  no  sort  of  hurry,  the  doctor  and  I  char- 
tered a  motor-carriage  for  two  at  the  next  station,  and 
set  forth  in  the  general  direction  of  home,  indulging  our- 
selves in  as  many  deviations  from  the  route  as  pleased  our 
17 


24:6  EQUALITY. 

fanc}^.  Presently,  as  we  rolled  noiselessly  over  the  smooth 
streets,  leaf-strewn  from  the  bordering-  colonnades  of  trees, 
I  began  to  exclaim  about  the  i^recocity  of  school  children 
who  at  the  age  of  thirteen  or  fourteen  were  able  to  handle 
themes  usually  reserved  in  my  day  for  the  college  and  uni- 
versity.    This,  however,  the  doctor  made  light  of. 

"Political  economy,"  he  said,  "from  the  time  the  world 
adopted  the  plan  of  equal  sharing  of  labor  and  its  results, 
became  a  science  so  simple  that  any  child  who  knows 
the  proper  way  to  divide  an  apple  with  his  little  brothers 
has  mastered  the  secret  of  it.  Of  course,  to  point  out  the 
fallacies  of  a  false  political  economy  is  a  very  simple 
matter  also,  when  one  has  only  to  compare  it  with  the 
true  one. 

"As  to  intellectual  precocity  in  general,"  pursued  the 
doctor,  "I  do  not  think  it  is  particularly  noticeable  in  our 
children  as  compared  with  those  of  your  day.  We  certainly 
make  no  effort  to  develop  it.  A  bright  school  child  of 
twelve  in  the  nineteenth  century  would  probably  not  com- 
pare badly  as  to  acquirements  with  the  average  twelve-year- 
old  in  our  schools.  It  Would  be  as  you  compared  them  ten 
years  later  that  the  difference  in  the  educational  systems 
would  show  its  effect.  At  twenty-one  or  twenty-two  the 
average  youth  would  probably  in  your  day  have  been  little 
more  advanced  in  education  than  at  fourteen,  having  prob- 
ably left  school  for  the  factory  or  farm  at  about  that  age  or 
a  couple  of  years  later  unless  perhaps  he  happened  to  be 
one  of  the  children  of  the  rich  minority.  The  correspond- 
ing child  under  our  system  would  have  continued  his  or  her 
education  without  break,  and  at  twenty-one  have  acquired 
what  you  used  to  call  a  college  education." 

"  The  extension  of  the  educational  machinery  necessary 
to  provide  the  higher  education  for  all  must  have  been 
enormous,"  I  said.  "  Our  primary-school  sj'stem  provided 
the  rudiments  for  nearly  all  children,  but  not  one  in  twenty 
went  as  far  as  the  grammar  school,  not  one  in  a  hundred  as 
far  as  the  high  school,  and  not  one  in  a  thousand  ever  saw 
a  college.  The  great  universities  of  my  day — Harvard,  Yale, 
and  the  rest — must  have  become  small  cities  in  order  to  re- 
ceive the  students  flocking  to  them." 


WHAT  UNIVERSAL  CULTURE  MEANS.  247 

"  They  would  need  to  be  very  large  cities  certainlN',"  re- 
plied the  doctor,  "  if  it  were  a  question  of  their  undertaking 
the  higher  education  of  our  youth,  for  every  year  we  gradu- 
ate not  the  thousands  or  tens  of  thousands  that  made  up 
your  annual  grist  of  college  graduates,  but  millions.  For 
that  very  reason — that  is,  the  numbers  to  be  dealt  with — we 
can  have  no  centers  of  the  higher  education  any  more  than 
you  had  of  the  primary  education.  Every  community  has 
its  university  just  as  formerly  its  common  schools,  and  has 
in  it  more  students  from  the  vicinage  than  one  of  your 
great  universities  could  collect  with  its  drag  net  from  the 
ends  of  the  earth." 

"  But  does  not  the  reputation  of  particular  teachers  attract 
students  to  special  universities  ?  " 

"That  is  a  matter  easily  provided  for/'  replied  the  doctor. 
"  The  perfection  of  our  telephone  and  electroscope  systems 
makes  it  possible  to  enjoy  at  any  distance  the  instruction  of 
any  teacher.  One  of  much  popularity  lectures  to  a  million 
pupils  in  a  whisper,  if  he  happens  to  be  hoarse,  much  easier 
than  one  of  your  professors  could  talk  to  a  class  of  fifty 
when  in  good  voice." 

"  Really,  doctor,"  said  I,  "  there  is  no  fact  about  j^our 
civilization  that  seems  to  open  so  many  vistas  of  possibility 
and  solve  beforehand  so  many  possible  difficulties  in  the 
arrangement  and  operation  of  your  social  system  as  this 
universality  of  culture.  I  am  bound  to  say  that  nothing 
that  is  rational  seems  impossible  in  the  way  of  social  adjust- 
ments when  once  you  assume  the  existence  of  that  condi- 
tion. ,  My  own  contemporaries  fully  recognized  in  theory, 
as  you  know,  the  importance  of  popular  education  to  secure 
good  government  in  a  democracy ;  but  our  system,  which 
barely  at  best  taught  the  masses  to  spell,  was  a  farce  indeed 
compared  with  the  popular  education  of  to-day." 

''Necessarily  so,"  replied  the  doctor.  "The  basis  of 
education  is  economic,  requiring  as  it  does  the  maintenance 
of  the  pupil  without  economic  return  during  the  educa- 
tional period.  If  the  education  is  to  amount  to  anything, 
that  period  must  cover  the  years  of  childhood  and  ado- 
lescence to  the  age  of  at  least  twenty.  That  involves  a  very 
large  expenditure,  which  not  one  parent  in  a  thousand  was 


248  EQUALITY. 

able  to  support  in  your  day.  The  state  might  have  assumed 
it,  of  course,  but  that  would  have  amounted  to  the  rich  sup- 
porting the  children  of  the  poor,  and  naturally  they  would 
not  hear  to  that,  at  least  beyond  the  primary  grades  of  edu- 
cation. And  even  if  there  had  been  no  money  question,  the 
rich,  if  they  hoped  to  retain  their  power,  would  have  been 
crazy  to  provide  for  the  masses  destined  to  do  their  dirty 
work — a  culture  which  would  have  made  them  social  rebels. 
For  these  two  reasons  your  economic  system  was  incom- 
patible with  any  popular  education  worthy  of  the  name. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  first  effect  of  economic  equality  was 
to  provide  equal  educational  advantages  for  all  and  the  best 
the  community  could  afford.  One  of  the  most  interesting 
chaptei-s  in  the  history  of  the  Eevolution  is  that  which  tells 
how  at  once  after  the  new  order  was  established  the  young 
men  and  women  under  twenty-one  years  of  age  who  had 
been  working  in  fields  or  factories,  perhaps  since  childhood, 
left  their  work  and  poured  back  into  the  schools  and  col- 
leges as  fast  as  room  could  be  made  for  them,  so  that  they 
might  as  far  as  possible  repair  their  early  loss.  All  alike 
recognized,  now  that  education  had  been  made  economically 
possible  for  all,  that  it  was  the  greatest  boon  the  new  order 
had  brought.  It  recorded  also  in  the  books  that  not  only 
the  youth,  but  the  men  and  women,  and  even  the  elderly 
who  had  been  without  educational  advantages,  devoted  all 
the  leisure  left  from  their  industrial  duties  to  making  up, 
so  far  as  possible,  for  their  lack  of  earlier  advantages,  that 
they  might  not  be  too  much  ashamed  in  the  presence  of  a 
rising  generation  to  be  composed  altogether  of  college 
graduates. 

"  In  speaking  of  our  educational  system  as  it  is  at  pres- 
ent," the  doctor  went  on,  "  I  should  guard  you  against  the 
possible  mistake  of  supposing  that  the  course  which  ends  at 
twenty-one  completes  the  educational  curriculum  of  the 
average  individual.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  only  the  re- 
quired minimum  of  culture  which  society  insists  that  all 
youth  shall  receive  during  their  minority  to  make  them 
barely  fit  for  citizenship.  We  should  consider  it  a  very 
meager  education  indeed  that  ended  there.  As  we  look  at 
it,  the  graduation  from  the  schools  at  the  attainment  of  ma- 


WHAT  UKIVEKSAL   CULTURE   MEANS.  249 

joritv  means  merely  that  the  graduate  I''' VT^^f  w  th! 
itwiiich  he  can  be  presmned  to  be  c„mp.^ent  and  has  the 
right  as  an  adult  to  carry  on  his  further  education  without 
the  guidance  or  compulsion  of  the  state.  To  provide  means 
for  this  end  the  nation  maintains  a  vast  system  of  what  jou 
would  call  elective  post-graduate  courses  of  study  m  every 
branch  of  science,  and  these  are  open  freely  to  every  one 
to  the  end  of  life  to  be  pursued  as  long  or  as  briefly  as  con- 
stantly or  as  intermittently,  as  profoundly  or  superficially, 

as  desired.  - 

"The  mind  is  really  not  fit  for  many  most  important 
branches  of  knowledge,  the  taste  for  them  does  not  awake, 
and  the  intellect  is  not  able  to  gi-asp  them,  until  mature  hfe 
when  a  month  of  application  will  give  a  comprehension  of 
a  subject  which  years  would  have  been  wasted  ni  trying  to 
impart  to  a  youth.    It  is  om-  idea,  so  far  as  possible,  to  post- 
pone the  serious  study  of  such  branches  to  the  post-graduate 
schools.    Young  people  must  get  a  smattering  of  things  m 
general,  but  really  theirs  is  not  the  time  of  life  for  ardent 
and  eflective  study.     If  you  would  see  enthusiastic  students 
to  whom  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  is  the  greatest  joy  of  life 
you  must  seek  them  among  tlie  middle-aged  fathers  and 
mothers  in  the  post-graduate  schools. 

"For  the  proper  use  of  these  opportunities  for  the  life- 
long pursuit  of  knowledge  we  find  the  leisure  of  our  lives 
which  seems  to  you  so  ample,  all  too  small.     And  yet  tha 
leisure,  vast  as  it  is,  with  half  of  every  day  and  half  of 
everv  year  and  the  whole  latter  half  of  life  sacred  to  per- 
sonal uses-even  the  aggregate  of  these  great  spaces,  grow- 
ino-  greater  with  every  labor-saving  invention,  which  are 
reserved  for  the  higher  uses  of  life,  would  seem  to  us  of 
little  value  for  intellectual  culture,  but  for  a  condition  com- 
manded bv  almost  none  in  your  day  but  secured  to  all  by 
our  institutions.     I  mean  the  moral  atmosphere  of  serenity 
resulting  from  an  absolute  freedom  of  mind  from  disturbing 
anxieties  and  carking  cares  concerning  our  material  weltai-e 
or  that  of  those  dear  to  us.     Our  economic  system  puts  us 
in  a  position  where  we  can  follow  Christ's  maxim,  so  impos- 
sible for  you.  to  'take  no  thought  for  the  mori-ow.     You 
must  not  understand,  of  cour.se.  that  all  our  people  are  stu- 


250  EQUALITY. 

dents  or  philosophers,  but  you  may  understand  that  vre  are 
more  or  less  assiduous  and  systematic  students  and  school- 
goers  all  our  lives." 

"  Really,  doctor,"  I  said,  "  I  do  not  remember  that  you 
have  ever  told  me  anything-  that  has  suggested  a  more  com- 
plete and  striking  contrast  between  your  age  and  mine  than 
this  about  the  persistent  and  growing  development  of  the 
purely  intellectual  interests  through  life.  In  my  day  there 
was,  after  all,  only  six  or  eight  years'  difference  in  the  dura- 
tion of  the  intellectual  life  of  the  poor  man's  son  drafted  into 
the  factory  at  fourteen  and  the  more  fortunate  youth's  Avho 
went  to  college.  If  that  of  the  one  stopped  at  fourteen,  that 
of  the  other  ceased  about  as  completely  at  twenty-one  or 
twenty-two.  Instead  of  being  in  a  position  to  begin  his 
real  education  on  graduating  from  college,  that  event  meant 
the  close  of  it  for  the  average  student,  and  Avas  the  high- 
water  mark  of  his  life,  so  far  as  concerned  the  culture  and 
knowledge  of  the  sciences  and  humanities.  In  these  respects 
the  average  college  man  never  afterward  knew  so  much  as 
on  his  graduation  day.  For  immediately  thereafter,  unless 
of  the  richest  class,  he  must  needs  plunge  into  the  turmoil 
and  strife  of  business  life  and  engage  in  the  struggle  for  the 
material  means  of  existence.  Whether  he  failed  or  suc- 
ceeded, made  little  difference  as  to  the  effect  to  stunt  and 
wither  his  intellectual  life.  He  had  no  time  and  could  com- 
mand no  thought  for  anything  else.  If  he  failed,  or  barely 
avoided  failure,  perpetual  anxiety  ate  out  his  heart ;  and  if 
he  succeeded,  his  success  usually  made  him  a  grosser  and 
more  hopelessly  self-satisfied  materialist  than  if  he  had 
failed.  There  was  no  hope  for  his  mind  or  soul  either 
way.  If  at  the  end  of  life  his  efforts  had  won  him  a  little 
breathing  space,  it  could  be  of  no  high  use  to  him,  for  the 
spiritual  and  intellectual  parts  had  become  atrophied  from 
disuse,  and  were  no  longer  capable  of  responding  to  op- 
portunity. 

"And  this  apology  for  an  existence,"  said  the  doctor, 
"was  the  life  of  those  whom  you  counted  most  fortunate 
and  most  successful — of  those  who  were  reckoned  to  have 
won  the  prizes  of  life.  Can  you  be  surprised  that  we  look 
back  to  the  great  Revolution  as  a  sort  of  second  creation  of 


WHAT  UNIVERSAL  CULTURE  MEANS.  251 

„,an  inasmuch  as  it  added  the  conditions  of  an  adequate 
""d  and  soul   life  to  the  bare  physical  existence  under 
^ore  or  less  agreeable  conditions,  which  was  about  all    he 
Hfe  the  most  of  iuunan  beings,  rich  or  poor,  had  up  to  that 
ine  known  ?    The  effect  of  the  struggle  for  existence  m 
Xtlng    with  its  engrossments,  the  intellectual  develop- 
mTnt  at  the  very  threshold  of  adult  life  would  have  been 
di  astvovl  enough  had  the  character  of  the  ^t-ggle^been 
morally  unobjectionable.     It  is  when  we  come  to  consider 
Ztt  struggle  was  one  which  not  only  P-evented  men  a 
culture,  but  was  utterly  withermg  to    he  ™°-i;'^:  *^ 
we  fully  realize  the  unfortunate  condition  of  the  race  be 
7ore  the  Revolution.     Youth  is  visited  with  noble  aspirations 
and  hi'h  dreams  of  duty  and  perfection.     It  sees  the  world 
as  it   hould  be,  not  as  it  is ;  and  it  is  well  for  the  race  if  the 
institutions  of  society  are  such  as  do  not  offend  these  mora^ 
enthusiasms,  but  rather  tend  to  conserve  and  develop  them 
tou'h  life     This,  I  think,  we  may  fully  claim  the  modern 
so^^aforder  does.     Thanks  to  an  economic  system  which 
mustrates  the  highest  ethical  idea  in  all  its  workings,  the 
youth  going  forth  into  the  world  finds  it  a  practice  schoo 
L  all  the  moralities.    He  finds  full  room  and  scope  m  its 
duties   and    occupations    for  every  generous    enthusiasm 
every  unselfish  aspiration  he  ever  cherished.    He  can  not 
possibly  have  formed  a  moral  idea  higher  or  completer 
than  that  which  dominates  our  industrial  and  commercial 

°'''^"  Youtii  was  as  noble  in  your  day  as  now,  and  dreamed 
the  same  great  dreams  of  life's  possibilities.  But  when  the 
youn-  man  went  forth  into  the  world  of  practical  lue  it  was 
to  find  his  dreams  mocked  and  his  ideals  derided  at  every 
turn  He  found  himself  compelled,  whether  he  would  or 
not,  to  take  part  in  a  fight  for  life,  in  which  the  first  condi- 
tion of  success  was  to  put  his  ethics  on  the  shelf  and  cut  the 
acquaintance  of  his  conscience.  You  had  various  terms 
with  which  to  describe  the  process  whereby  the  young  man, 
reluctantly  laying  aside  his  ideals,  accepted  the  conditions 
of  the  sordid  struggle.  You  described  it  as  a  •learning  to 
take  the  world  as  it  is,'  'getting  over  romantic  notions 
'becoming  practical,'  and  all  that.     In  fact,  it  was  nothing 


252  EQUALITY. 

more  nor  less  than  the  debauching  of  a  soul.  Is  that  too 
much  to  say  ? 

"  It  is  no  more  than  the  truth,  and  we  all  knew  it,"  I 
answered. 

"  Thank  God,  that  day  is  over  forever  !  The  father  need 
now  no  longer  instruct  the  son  in  cynicism  lest  he  should 
fail  in  life,  nor  the  mother  her-daughter  in  worldly  wisdom 
as  a  protection  from  generous  instinct.  The  parents  are 
worthy  of  their  children  and  fit  to  associate  with  them,  as  it 
seems  to  us  they  were  not  and  could  not  be  in  your  day. 
Life  is  all  the  way  through  as  spacious  and  noble  as  it  seems 
to  the  ardent  child  standing  on  the  threshold.  The  ideals 
of  perfection,  the  enthusiasms  of  self-devotion,  honor,  love, 
and  duty,  which  thrill  the  boy  and  girl,  no  longer  yield 
with  advancing  years  to  baser  motives,  but  continue  to  ani- 
mate life  to  the  end.  You  remember  what  Wordsworth 
said  : 

"  Heaven  lies  about  us  in  our  infancy. 
Shades  of  the  prison  house  begin  to  close 

^  Upon  the  growing  boy. 

I  think  if  he  were  a  partaker  of  our  life  he  would  not  have 
been  moved  to  extol  childhood  at  the  expense  of  maturity, 
for  life  grows  ever  wider  and  higher  to  the  la^t." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

"NEITHER  IN  THIS   MOUNTAIN  NOR  AT  JERU£,ALEM." 

The  next  morning,  it  being  again  necessary  for  Edith  to 
report  at  her  post  of  duty,  I  accompanied  her  to  the  railway 
station.  While  w^e  stood  waiting  for  the  train  my  attention 
was  drawn  to  a  distinguished-looking  man  who  alighted 
from  an  incoming  car.  He  appeared  by  nineteenth-cen- 
tury standards  about  sixty  years  old,  and  was  therefore  pre- 
sumably eighty  or  ninety,  that  being  about  the  rate  of 
allowance  I  have  found  it  necessary  to  make  in  estimating 
the  ages  of  my  new  contemporarips.  ovdngr  to  the  slower  ad- 


THE  PASSING  OF  THE  TEMPLE.  253 

vent  of  si-ns  of  age  in  these  times.  On  speaking  to  Edith  of 
Ihis  pers^  I  -as  much  interested  when  she  mformed  me 
ttathe  was  no  other  than  Mr.  Barton,  whose  sermon  by 
X'one  had  so  impressed  me  on  the  first  Sunday  o^  my 
new  life,  as  set  forth  in  Looking  Backward.  Ed.th  had  just 
time  to  introduce  me  before  taking  the  tram. 

Iswe  left  tlie  station  together  I  said  to  my  companion 

thafw  he  would  excuse  the  inquiry  I  should  be  mte.^sted 

o  k  ow  what  particular  sect  or  religious  body  he  repre- 


seiited 


'my  dear  Mr.  West,"  was  the  reply,  "your  question  sug- 
gests tllat  my  friend  Dr.  Leete  has  not  probably  said  much 
ryouabout  the  modern  way  of  regarding  rehg.ous  matters. 

^°Our  conversation  has  turned  but  httle  on  that  subjec 
I  answered,  "but  it  will  not  surprise  me  to  learn  that  your 
ide^Ind  practices  are  quite  diiferent  from  those  of  my  day. 
itd'ed  reUgious  ideas  and  ecclesiastical  instituhons  wei-e 
already  at  that  time  undergoing  such  rapid  and  radical  de^ 
composition  that  it  was  safe  to  predict  ^i/'^^'S^O'^ ^Z'^. 
^rie  another  century  it  would  be  under  very  ■  d.iierent 
forms  from  any  the  past  had  known. 

™You"ave  suggested  a  topic,"  said  my  companion     of 

no  occupation  except  to   picK  up 

in^s  well  fitted  to  our  theme." 

^1  then  perceived  that  we  stood  before  one  of  the  las 

whenever  I  attended  any  church,  which  was  not  often. 

Whit  an  extraordinary  coincidence!"  exclaimed  Mr 
Bart™  en  I  told  him  this;  "who  would  have  expected 


254  EQUALITY. 

it  ?  Naturally,  when  you  revisit  a  spot  so  fraught  with 
affecting  associations,  you  will  wish  to  be  alone.  You 
must  pardon  my  involuntary  indiscretion  in  proposing  to 
turn  in  here.'' 

"Really,"  I  replied,  "the  coincidence  is  interesting 
merely,  not  at  all  affecting.  Young  men  of  my  day  did  not, 
as  a  rule,  take  their  church  relations  very  seriously.  I  shall 
be  interested  to  see  how  the  old  place  looks.  Let  us  go  in, 
by  all  means." 

The  interior  proved  to  be  quite  unchanged  in  essential 
particulars  since  the  last  time  I  had  been  within  its  walls, 
more  than  a  century  before.  That  last  occasion,  I  well  re- 
membered, had  been  an  Easter  service,  to  which  I  had 
escorted  some  pretty  country  cousins  who  wanted  to  hear 
the  music  and  see  the  flowers.  No  doubt  the  processes  of 
decay  had  rendered  necessary  many  restorations,  but  they 
had  been  carried  out  so  as  to  preserve  completely  the  orig- 
inal effects. 

Leading  the  way  down  the  main  aisle,  I  paused  in  front 
of  the  family  pew. 

"  This,  Mr.  Barton,"  I  said,  "  is,  or  was,  my  pew.  It  is 
true  that  I  am  a  little  in  arrears  on  pew  rent,  but  I  think  I 
may  venture  to  invite  you  to  sit  with  me." 

I  had  truly  told  Mr.  Barton  that  there  was  very  little 
sentiment  connected  with  such  church  relations  as  I  had 
maintained.  They  were  indeed  merely  a  matter  of  fam- 
ily tradition  and  social  propriety.  But  in  another  way 
I  found  myself  not  a  little  moved,  as,  dropping  into  my 
accustomed  place  at  the  head  of  the  pew,  I  looked  about  the 
dim  and  silent  interior.  As  my  eye  roved  from  pew  to  pew, 
my  imagination  called  back  to  life  the  men  and  women,  the 
young  men  and  maidens,  who  had  been  wont  of  a  Sunday, 
a  hundred  years  before,  to  sit  in  those  places.  As  I  recalled 
their  various  activities,  ambitions,  hopes,  fears,  envies,  and 
intrigues,  all  dominated,  as  they  had  been,  by  the  idea  of 
money  possessed,  lost,  or  lusted  after,  I  was  impressed  not 
so  much  with  the  personal  death  which  had  come  to  these 
my  old  acquaintances  as  by  the  thought  of  the  completeness 
with  which  the  whole  social  scheme  in  which  they  had  lived 
and  moved   and    had  their  being  had  passed  away.     Not 


THE  PASSING  OF  THE  TEMPLE.  255 

only  were  they  gone,  but  their  world  was  gone,  and  its  place 
knew  it  no  more.  How  strange,  how  artificial,  how  gro- 
tesque that  world  had  been  !— and  yet  to  them  and  to  me, 
while  I  was  one  of  them,  it  had  seemed  the  only  possible 
mode  of  existence. 

Mr.  Barton,  with  delicate  respect  for  my  absorption, 
waited  for  me  to  break  the  silence. 

"No  doubt,"  I  said,  "since  you  preserve  our  churches 
as  curiosities,  you  must  have  better  ones  of  your  own  for 
use  ? " 

"  In  point  of  fact,"  my  companion  replied,  "  we  have  lit- 
tle or  no  use  for  churches  at  all." 

"  Ah,  yes  !  I  had  forgotten  for  the  moment  that  it  was 
by  telephone  I  heard  your  sermon.  The  telephone,  in  its 
present  perfection,  must  indeed  have  quite  dispensed  with 
the  necessity  of  the  church  as  an  audience  room." 

"In  other  words,"  replied  Mr.  Barton,  "when  we  assem- 
ble now  we  need  no  longer  bring  our  bodies  with  us.  It  is 
a  curious  paradox  that  while  the  telephone  and  electroscope, 
by  abolishing  distance  as  a  hindrance  to  sight  and  hear- 
ing, have  brought  mankind  into  a  closeness  of  sympathetic 
and  intellectual  rapport  never  before  imagined,  they  have 
at  the  same  time  enabled  individuals,  although  keeping  in 
closest  touch  with  everything  going  on  in  the  world,  to  en- 
joy, if  they  choose,  a  physical  privacy,  such  as  one  had  to 
be  a  hermit  to  command  in  your  day.  Our  advantages  in 
this  respect  have  so  far  spoiled  us  that  being  in  a  crowd, 
which  was  the  matter-of-course  penalty  you  had  to  pay  for 
seeing  or  hearing  anything  interesting,  would  seem  too  dear 
a  price  to  pay  for  almost  any  enjoyment." 

"  I  can  imagine,"  I  said,  "  that  ecclesiastical  institutions 
must  have  been  aflFected  in  other  ways  besides  the  disuse  of 
church  buildings,  by  the  general  adaptation  of  the  tele- 
phone system  to  religious  teaching.  In  my  day,  the  fact 
that  no  speaker  could  reach  by  voice  more  than  a  small 
group  of  hearers  made  it  necessary  to  have  a  veritable  army 
of  preachers — some  fifty  thousand,  say,  in  the  United  States 
alone — in  order  to  instruct  the  population.  Of  these,  not 
one  in  many  hundreds  was  a  person  who  had  anything 
to  utter  really  worth  hearing.     For  example,  we  will  say 


256  EQUALITY. 

that  fifty  thousand  clergymen  preached  every  Sunday  as 
many  sermons  to  as  many  congregations.  Four  fifths  of 
these  sermons  were  poor,  half  of  the  rest  perhaps  fair,  some 
of  the  others  good,  and  a  few  score,  possibly,  out  of  the 
whole  really  of  a  fine  class.  Now,  nobody,  of  course,  would 
hear  a  pooi*  discourse  on  any  subject  when  he  could  just  as 
easily  hear  a  fine  one,  and  if  we  had  perfected  the  telephone 
system  to  the  point  you  have,  the  result  would  have  been, 
the  first  Sunday  after  its  introduction,  that  evei'ybody  who 
wanted  to  hear  a  sermon  would  have  connected  with  the 
lecture  rooms  or  churches  of  the  few  widely  celebrated 
l^reachers,  and  the  rest  would  have  had  no  hearers  at 
all,  and  presently  have  been  obliged  to  seek  new  occupa- 
tions." 

Mr.  Barton  was  amused.  "  You  have,  in  fact,  hit,"  he 
said,  "  upon  the  mechanical  side  of  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant contrasts  between  your  times  and  ours— namely,  the 
modern  suppression  of  mediocrity  in  teaching,  whether  in- 
tellectual or  religious.  Being  able  to  pick  from  the  choicest 
intellects,  and  most  inspired  moralists  and  seers  of  the 
generation,  everybody  of  coui^e  agrees  in  regarding  it  a 
waste  of  time  to  listen  to  any  who  have  less  weighty  mes- 
sages to  deliver.  When  you  consider  that  all  are  thus  able 
to  obtain  the  best  inspiration  the  greatest  minds  can  give, 
and  couple  this  with  the  fact  that,  thanks  to  the  universality 
of  the  higher  education,  all  are  at  least  pretty  good  judges 
of  what  is  best,  you  have  the  secret  of  what  might  be  called 
at  once  the  strongest  safeguard  of  the  degree  of  civilization 
we  have  attained,  and  the  surest  pledge  of  the  highest  possi- 
ble rate  of  progress  toward  ever  better  conditions — namely, 
the  leadership  of  moral  and  intellectual  genius.  To  one  like 
you,  educated  according  to  the  ideas  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury as  to  what  democracy  meant,  it  may  seem  like  a  para- 
dox that  the  equalizing  of  economic  and  educational  condi- 
tions, which  has  perfected  democracy,  should  have  resulted 
in  the  most  perfect  aristocracy,  or  government  by  the  best, 
that  could  be  conceived;  yet  what  result  could  be  more 
matter-of-course  ?  The  people  of  to-day,  too  intelligent  to 
be  misled  or  abused  for  selfish  ends  even  by  demigods,  are 
readv,  on  the  other  hand,  to  comprehend  and  to  follow  with 


THE   PASSING   OF   THE  TEMPLE.  257 

enthusiasm  every  better  leading.  The  result  is,  that  our 
greatest  men  and  women  wield  to-day  an  unselfish  empire, 
more  absolute  than  your  czars  dreamed  of,  and  of  an  extent 
to  make  Alexander's  conquests  seem  provincial.  There  are 
men  in  the  world  who  when  they  choose  to  appeal  to  their 
fellow-men,  by  the  bare  announcement  are  able  to  command 
the  simultaneous  attention  of  one  to  five  or  eight  hundred 
millions  of  people.  In  fact,  if  the  occasion  be  a  great  one, 
and  the  speaker  worthy  of  it,  a  world-wide  silence  reigns  as 
in  their  various  places,  some  beneath  the  sun  and  others 
under  the  stars,  some  bj^  the  light  of  dawn  and  others  at 
sunset,  all  hang  on  the  lips  of  the  teacher.  Such  power 
would  have  seemed,  perhaps,  in  your  day  dangerous,  but 
when  you  consider  that  its  tenure  is  conditional  on  the  wis- 
dom and  unselfishness  of  its  exercise,  and  would  fail  with 
the  first  false  note,  you  may  judge  that  it  is  a  dominion  as 
safe  as  God's." 

"  Dr.  Leete,"  I  said,  "  has  told  me  something  of  the  way 
in  which  the  universality  of  culture,  combined  with  your 
scientific  appliances,  has  made  physically  possible  this  lead- 
ership of  the  best ;  but,  I  beg  your  pardon,  how  could  a 
speaker  address  number^  so  vast  as  you  speak  of  unless 
the  Pentecostal  miracle  were  repeated  ?  Surely  the  audi- 
ence must  be  limited  at  least  by  the  number  of  those  under- 
standing one  language." 

"  Is  it  possible  that  Dr.  Leete  has  not  told  you  of  our 
universal  language  ? " 

"  I  have  heard  no  language  but  English." 

"Of  course,  everybody  talks  the  language  of  his  own 
country  with  his  countrymen,  but  with  the  rest  of  the 
world  he  talks  the  general  language— that  is  to  say,  we 
have  nowadays  to  acquire  but  two  languages  to  talk  to  all 
peoples — our  own,  and  the  universal.  We  may  learn  as 
many  more  as  we  please,  and  we  usually  please  to  learn 
many,  but  these  two  are  alone  needful  to  go  all  over  the 
world  or  to  speak  across  it  without  an  interpreter.  A  num- 
ber of  the  smaller  nations  have  wholly  abandoned  their 
national  tongue  and  talk  only  the  general  language.  The 
greater  nations,  which  have  fine  literature  embalmed  in 
their  languages,  have  been  more  reluctant  to  abandon  them, 


258  EQUALITY. 

and  in  this  way  the  smaller  folks  have  actually  had  a  cer- 
tain sort  of  advantage  over  the  greater.  The  tendency, 
however,  to  cultivate  but  one  language  as  a  living  tongue 
and  to  treat  all  the  others  as  dead  or  moribund  is  increasing 
at  such  a  rate  that  if  you  had  slept  through  another  genera- 
tion you  might  have  found  none  but  philological  exjDerts 
able  to  talk  with  you." 

''But  even  with  the  universal  telephone  and  the  uni- 
versal language,"  I  said,  "  there  still  remains  the  ceremonial 
and  ritual  side  of  religion  tc  be  considered.  For  the  prac- 
tice of  that  I  should  suppose  the  piously  inclined  would  still 
need  churches  to  assemble  in,  however  able  to  dispense  with 
them  for  purposes  of  instruction." 

''If  any  feel  that  need,  there  is  no  reason  why  they 
should  not  have  as  many  churches  as  they  wish  and  assem- 
ble as  often  as  ihej  see  fit.  I  do  not  know  but  there  are 
still  those  who  do  so.  But  with  a  high  grade  of  intelligence 
become  universal  the  world  was  bound  to  outgrow  the  cere- 
monial side  of  religion,  which  with  its  forms  and  symbols, 
its  holy  times  and  j)laces,  its  sacrifices,  feasts,  fasts,  and  new 
moons,  meant  so  much  in  the  child-time  of  the  race.  The 
time  has  now  fully  come  which  Christ  foretold  in  that  talk 
with  the  woman  by  the  well  of  Samaria  when  the  idea  of 
the  Temple  and  all  it  stood  for  would  give  place  to  the 
wholly  spiritual  religion,  without  respect  of  times  or  places, 
which  he  declared  most  pleasing  to  God. 

"With  the  ritual  and  ceremonial  side  of  religion  out- 
grown," said  I,  "with  church  attendance  become  superflu- 
ous for  purposes  of  instruction,  and  everybody  selecting  his 
own  preacher  on  personal  grounds,  I  should  say  that  secta- 
rian lines  must  have  pretty  nearly  disappeared." 

"Ah,  yes  I  "  said  Mr.  Barton,  "that  reminds  me  that  our 
talk  began  with  your  inquiry  as  to  what  religious  sect  I 
belonged  to.  It  is  a  very  long  time  since  it  has  been  cus- 
tomary for  people  to  divide  themselves  into  sects  and  classify 
themselves  under  different  names  on  account  of  variations 
of  opinion  as  to  matters  of  religion." 

"  Is  it  possible,"  I  exclaimed,  "  that  you  mean  to  say  peo- 
ple no  longer  quarrel  over  religion  ?  Do  you  actually  tell 
me  that  human  beings  have  become  capable  of  entertaining 


THE  PASSING  OF  THE  TEMPLE.  259 

different  opinions  about  the  next  world  without  becoming 
enemies  in  this  ?  Dr.  Leete  has  compelled  me  to  believe  a 
good  many  miracles,  but  this  is  too  much." 

"  I  do  not  wonder  that  it  seems  rather  a  startling  prop- 
osition, at  first  statement,  to  a  man  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury," replied  Mr.  Barton.  "  But,  after  all,  who  was  it  who 
started  and  kept  up  the  quarreling  over  religion  in  former 
days?" 

"  It  was,  of  course,  the  ecclesiastical  bodies— the  priests 
and  preachers." 

"But  they  were  not  many.  How  were  they  able  to 
make  so  much  trouble  ? " 

"On  account  of  the  masses  of  the  people  who,  being 
densely  ignorant,  were  correspondingly  superstitious  and 
bigoted,  and  were  tools  in  the  hands  of  the  ecclesiastics." 

" But  there  Vvas  a  minority  of  the  cultured.  Were  they 
bigoted  also  ?    Were  they  tools  of  the  ecclesiastics  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,  they  always  held  a  calm  and  tolerant 
attitude  on  religious  questions  and  were  independent  of  the 
priesthoods.  If  they  deferred  to  ecclesiastical  influence  at 
all,  it  was  because  they  held  it  needful  for  the  purpose  of 
controlling  the  ignorant  populace." 

"  Very  good.  You  have  explained  your  miracle.  There 
is  no  ignorant  populace  now  for  whose  sake  it  is  necessary 
for  the  more  intelligent  to  make  any  compromises  with 
truth.  Your  cultured  class,  with  their  tolerant  and  philo- 
sophical view  of  religious  differences,  and  the  criminal 
folly  of  quarreling  about  them,  has  become  the  only  class 
there  is." 

"  How  long  is  it  since  people  ceased  to  call  themselves 
Catholics.  Protestants,  Baptists,  Methodists,  and  so  on  ? " 

"  That  kind  of  classification  may  be  said  to  have  received 
a  fatal  shock  at  the  time  of  the  great  Revolution,  when 
sectarian  demarcations  and  doctrinal  differences,  already 
fallen  into  a  good  deal  of  disregard,  were  completely  swept 
away  and  forgotten  in  the  passionate  impulse  of  brotherly 
love  which  brought  men  together  for  the  founding  of  a  nobler 
social  order.  The  old  habit  might  possibly  have  revived  in 
time  had  it  not  been  for  the  new  culture,  which,  during  the 
first  generation  subsequent  to  the  Revolution,  destroyed  the 


260  .  EQUALITY. 

soil  of  ignorance  and  superstition  which  had  supported 
ecclesiastical  influence,  and  made  its  recrudescence  impos- 
sible for  evermore. 

"Although,  of  course,"  continued  my  companion,  "the 
universalizing  of  intellectual  culture  is  the  only  cause  that 
needs  to  be  considered  in  accounting  for  the  total  disappear- 
ance of  religious  sectarianism,  yet  it  will  give  you  a  more 
vivid  realization  of  the  gulf  fixed  between  the  ancient  and 
the  modern  usages  as  to  religion  if  you  consider  certain 
economic  conditions,  now  wholly  passed  away,  which  in  your 
time  buttressed  the  power  of  ecclesiastical  institutions  in  very 
substantial  ways.  Of  course,  in  the  fij'st  place,  church  build- 
ings were  needful  to  preach  in,  and  equally  so  for  the  ritual 
and  ceremonial  side  of  religion.  Moreover,  the  sanction 
of  religious  teaching,  depending  chiefly  on  the  authority 
of  tradition  instead  of  its  own  reasonableness,  made  it 
necessary  for  any  preacher  who  would  command  hearers 
to  enter  the  service  of  some  of  the  established  sectarian  oi'- 
ganizations.  Religion,  in  a  word,  like  industry  and  poli- 
tics, was  capitalized  by  gi'eater  or  smaller  corporations 
which  exclusively  controlled  the  plant  and  machinery,  and 
conducted  it  for  the  prestige  and  power  of  the  firms.  As 
all  those  who  desired  to  engage  in  politics  or  industry 
were  obliged  to  do  so  in  subjection  to  the  individuals  and 
corporations  controlling  the  machinery,  so  was  it  in  reli- 
gious matters  likewise.  Persons  desirous  of  entering  on  the 
occupation  of  religious  teaching  could  do  so  only  by  con- 
forming to  the  conditions  of  some  of  the  organizations  con- 
trolling the  machinery,  plant,  and  good  will  of  the  business 
— that  is  to  say,  of  some  one  of  the  great  ecclesiastical  cor- 
porations. To  teach  religion  outside  of  these  corporations, 
when  not  positively  illegal,  was  a  most  difficult  undertak- 
ing, however  great  the  ability  of  the  teacher — as  difficult,  in- 
deed, as  it  was  to  get  on  in  politics  without  wearing  a  party 
badge,  or  to  succeed  in  business  in  opposition  to  the  great 
capitalists.  The  would-be  religious  teacher  had  to  attach 
himself,  therefore,  to  some  one  or  other  of  the  sectarian 
organizations,  whose  mouthpiece  he  must  consent  to  be,  as 
the  condition  of  obtaining  any  hearing  at  all.  The  organi- 
zation might  be  hierarchical,  in  which  case  he  took  his  in- 


THE  PASSING  OF  THE  TEMPLE.  261 

structions  from  above,  or  it  might  be  congregational,  in 
which  case  he  took  liis  orders  from  below.  The  one  method 
was  monai'chical,  the  other  democratic,  but  one  as  inconsis- 
tent as  the  other  with  the  office  of  the  religious  teacher,  the 
first  condition  of  which,  as  we  look  at  it,  should  be  absolute 
spontaneity  of  feeling  and  liberty  of  utterance. 

"  It  may  be  said  that  the  old  ecclesiastical  system  de- 
pended on  a  double  bondage :  first,  the  intellectual  sub- 
jection of  the  masses  through  ignorance  to  their  spiritual 
directors  ;  and,  secondly,  the  bondage  of  the  directors  them- 
selves to  the  sectarian  organizations,  which  as  spiritual  capi- 
talists monopolized  the  opportunities  of  teaching.  As  the 
bondage  was  twofold,  so  also  was  the  enfranchisement — a 
deliverance  alike  of  the  people  and  of  their  teachers,  who, 
under  the  guise  of  leaders,  had  been  themselves  but  puppets. 
Nowadays  preaching  is  as  free  as  hearing,  and  as  open  to 
all.  The  man  who  feels  a  special  calling  to  talk  to  his  fel- 
lows upon  religious  themes  has  no  need  of  any  other  capital 
than  something  worth  saying.  Griven  this,  without  need  of 
any  further  machinery  than  the  free  telephone,  he  is  able 
to  command  an  audience  limited  only  by  the  force  and  fit- 
ness of  what  he  has  to  say.  He  now  does  not  live  by  his 
preaching.  His  business  is  not  a  distinct  profession.  He 
does  not  belong  to  a  class  apart  from  other  citizens,  either 
by  education  or  occupation.  It  is  not  needful  for  any  pur- 
pose that  he  should  do  so.  The  higher  education  which  he 
shares  with  all  others  furnishes  ample  intellectual  equip- 
ment, while  the  abundant  leisure  for  personal  pursuits  with 
which  our  life  is  interfused,  and  the  entire  exemption  from 
public  duty  after  forty-five,  give  abundant  opportunity  for 
the  exercise  of  his  vocation.  In  a  word,  the  modern  reli- 
gious teacher  is  a  prophet,  not  a  priest.  The  sanction  of  his 
words  lies  not  in  any  human  ordination  or  ecclesiastical 
exequatur^  but,  even  as  it  was  with  the  prophets  of  old,  in 
such  response  as  his  words  may  have  power  to  evoke  from 
human  hearts.'' 

''  If  people,"  I  suggested,  "  still  retaining  a  taste  for  the 
old-time  ritual  and  ceremonial  observances  and  face-to-face 
preaching,  should  desire  to  have  churches  and  clergy  for 
their  special  service,  is  there  anj^thing  to  prevent  it  ? " 
18 


262  EQUALITY. 

"  No,  indeed.  Liberty  is  the  first  and  last  word  of  our  civ- 
ilization. It  is  perfectly  consistent  with  our  economic  sys- 
tem for  a  group  of  individuals,  by  contributing  out  of  their 
incomes,  not  only  to  rent  buildings  for  group  purposes,  but 
by  indemnifying  the  nation  for  the  loss  of  an  individual's 
public  service  to  secure  him  a§  their  special  minister.  Though 
the  state  will  enforce  no  private  contracts  of  any  sort,  it  does 
not  forbid  them.  The  old  ecclesiastical  system  was,  for  a 
time  after  the  Revolution,  kept  up  by  remnants  in  this  way, 
and  might  be  until  now  if  anybody  had  wished.  But  the 
contempt  into  which  the  hireling  relation  had  fallen  at  once 
after  the  Revolution  soon  made  the  position  of  such  hired 
clergymen  intolerable,  and  presently  there  were  none  who 
would  demean  themselves  by  entering  upon  so  despised  a 
relation,  and  none,  indeed,  who  would  have  spiritual  service, 
of  all  others,  on  such  terms." 

"As  you  tell  the  story,"  I  said,  "it  seems  very  plain  how 
it  all  came  about,  and  could  not  have  been  otherwise  ;  but 
you  can  perhaps  hardly  imagine  how  a  man  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  accustomed  to  the  vast  place  occupied  by 
the  ecclesiastical  edifice  and  influence  in  human  affairs,  is 
affected  by  the  idea  of  a  world  getting  on  without  anything 
of  the  sort." 

"  I  can  imagine  something  of  your  sensation,"  replied  my 
companion,  "  though  doubtless  not  adequately.  And  yet  I 
must  say  that  no  change  in  the  social  order  seems  to  us  to 
have  been  more  distinctly  foreshadowed  by  the  signs  of  the 
times  in  your  day  than  precisely  this  passing  away  of 
the  ecclesiastical  system.  As  you  yourself  observed,  just 
before  we  came  into  this  church,  there  was  then  going 
on  a  general  deliquescence  of  dogmatism  which  made 
your  contemporaries  wonder  what  was  going  to  be  left. 
The  influence  and  authority  of  the  clergy  were  rapidly  dis- 
appearing, the  sectarian  lines  were  being  obliterated,  the 
creeds  were  falling  into  contempt,  and  the  authority  of 
tradition  was  being  repudiated.  Surely  if  anything  could  be 
safely  predicted  it  was  that  the.  religious  ideas  and  institu- 
tions of  the  world  were  approaching  some  great  change." 

"  Doubtless,"  said  I,  "  if  the  ecclesiastics  of  my  day  had 
regarded  the  result  as  merely  depending  on  the  drift  of  opin- 


THE  PASSING   OF  THE  TEMPLE.  203 

ion  among  men,  they  would  liave  been  inclined  to  give  up 
all  hope  of  retaining  their  influence,  but  there  was  another 
element  in  the  case  which  gave  them  courage." 

"  And  what  was  that  ? " 

"  The  women.  They  were  in  my  day  called  the  religious 
sex.  The  clergy  generally  were  ready  to  admit  that  so  far 
as  the  interest  of  the  cultured  class  of  men,  and  indeed  of 
the  men  generally,  in  the  churches  went,  they  were  in  a 
bad  way,  but  they  had  faith  that  the  devotion  of  the  women 
would  save  the  cause.  Woman  was  the  sheet  anchor  of  the 
Church.  Not  only  were  women  the  chief  attendants  at  reli- 
gious functions,  but  it  was  largely  through  their  influence  on 
the  men  that  the  latter  tolerated,  even  so  far  as  they  did,  the 
ecclesiastical  pretensions.  Now,  were  not  our  clergymen 
justified  in  counting  on  the  continued  support  of  women, 
whatever  the  men  might  do  ?  " 

"  Certainly  they  would  have  been  if  woman's  position 
w^as  to  remain  unchanged,  but,  as  you  are  doubtless  by  this 
time  well  aware,  the  elevation  and  enlargement  of  woman's 
sphere  in  all  directions  was  perhaps  the  most  notable  single 
aspect  of  the  Revolution.  When  women  were  called  the 
religious  sex  it  would  have  been  indeed  a  high  ascription 
if  it  had  been  meant  that  they  were  the  more  spiritually 
minded,  but  that  was  not  at  all  what  the  phrase  signified  to 
those  who  used  it :  it  was  merely  intended  to  put  in  a  com- 
plimentary way  the  fact  that  women  in  your  day  were  the 
docile  sex.  Less  educated,  as  a  rule,  than  men,  unaccus- 
tomed to  responsibility,  and  trained  in  habits  of  subordina- 
tion and  self-distrust,  they  leaned  in  all  things  upon  prece- 
dent and  authority.  Naturally,  therefore,  they  still  held  to 
the  principle  of  authoritative  teaching  in  religion  long  after 
men  had  generally  rejected  it.  All  that  was  changed  with 
the  Revolution,  and  indeed  began  to  change  long  before  it. 
Since  the  Revolution  there  has  been  no  difi'erence  in  the 
education  of  the  sexes  nor  in  the  independence  of  their  eco- 
nomic and  social  position,  in  the  exercise  of  responsibility  or 
experience  in  the  practical  conduct  of  affairs.  As  you  might 
naturally  infer,  they  are  no  longer,  as  formerly,  a  pecul- 
iarly docile  class,  nor  have  they  any  more  toleration  for 
authority,  whether  in  religion,  politics,  or  economics,  than 


^e4:  EQUALITY. 

their  brethren.  In  every  pursuit  of  life  they  join  with  men 
on  equal  terms,  including  the  most  important  and  engross- 
ing of  a^U  our  pursuits — the  search  after  knowledge  concern- 
ing the  nature  and  destiny  of  man  and  his  relation  to  the 
spiritual  and  material  infinity  of  which  he  is  a  part." 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

ERITIS  SICUT   DEUS. 

"I  INFER,  then,"  I  said,  "that  the  disappearance  of  reli- 
gious divisions  and  the  priestly  caste  has  not  operated  to 
lessen  the  general  interest  in  religion." 

"  Should  you  have  supposed  that  it  would  so  operate  ? " 

''  I  don't  know.  I  never  gave  much  tliought  to  such  mat- 
ters. The  ecclesiastical  class  represented  that  they  were 
very  essential  to  the  conservation  of  religion,  and  the  rest 
of  us  took  it  for  granted  that  it  was  so." 

"  Every  social  institution  which  has  existed  for  a  consid- 
erable time,"  replied  Mr.  Barton,  "  has  doubtless  performed 
some  function  which  was  at  the  time  more  or  less  useful 
and  necessary.  Kings,  ecclesiastics,  and  capitalists— all  of 
them,  for  that  matter,  merely  different  sorts  of  capitalists — 
have,  no  doubt,  in  their  proper  periods,  performed  functions 
which,  however  badly  di'scharged,  were  necessary.and  could 
not  then  have  been  discharged  in  any  better  manner.  But 
just  as  the  abolition  of  royalty  was  the  beginning  of  decent 
government,  just  as  the  abolition  of  private  capitalism  was 
the  beginning  of  effective  wealth  production,  so  the  disap- 
pearance of  church  organization  and  machinery,  or  ecclesi- 
astical capitalism,  was  the  beginning  of  a  world-awakening 
of  impassioned  interest  in  the  vast  concerns  covered  by  the 
word  religion. 

Necessary  as  may  have  been  the  subjection  of  the  race  to 
priestly  authority  in  the  course  of  human  evolution,  it  was 
the  form  of  tutelage  which,  of  all  others,  was  m.ost  calcu- 
lated to  benumb  and  deaden  the  faculties  affected  by  it, 
and  the  collapse  of  ecclesiasticism  presently  prepared  the 


ERITIS  SICUT  DEUS.  265 

way  for  an  enthusiasm  of  interest  in  the  great  problems  of 
human  nature  and  destiny  which  would  have  been  scarcely 
conceivable  by  the  worthy  ecclesiastics  of  your  day  who 
with  such  painful  efforts  and  small  results  sought  to  awake 
their  flocks  to  spiritual  concerns.  The  lack  of  general  in- 
terest in  these  questions  in  your  time  was  the  natural  re- 
sult of  their  monopoly  as  the  special  province  of  the 
priestly  class  whose  members  stood  as  interpreters  between 
man  and  the  mystery  about  him,  undertaking  to  guarantee 
the  spiritual  welfare  of  all  who  would  trust  them.  The  de- 
cay of  priestly  authority  left  every  soul  face  to  face  with 
that  mystery,  with  the  responsibility  of  its  interpretation 
upon  himself.  The  collaj^se  of  the  traditional  theologies  re- 
lieved the  whole  subject  of  man's  relation  with  the  infi- 
nite from  the  oppressive  effect  of  the  false  finalities  of 
dogma  which  had  till  then  made  the  most  boundless  of 
sciences  the  most  cramped  and  narrow.  Instead  of  the 
mind-paralyzing  worship  of  the  past  and  the  bondage  of 
the  -present  to  that  which  is  written,  the  conviction  took 
hold  on  men  that  there  was  no  limit  to  what  they  might 
know  concerning  their  nature  and  destiny  and  no  limit  to 
that  destiny.  The  priestly  idea  that  the  past  was  diviner 
than  the  present,  that  God  was  behind  the  race,  gave  place 
to  the  belief  that  we  should  look  forward  and  not  back- 
ward for  inspiration,  and  that  the  present  and  the  future 
promised  a  fuller  and  more  certain  knowledge  concerning 
the  soul  and  Grod  than  any  the  past  had  attained." 

"  Has  this  belief,"  I  asked,  "  been  thus  far  practically 
confirmed  b^^  any  progi^ess  actually  made  in  the  assurance 
of  what  is  true  as  to  these  things  ?  Do  you  consider  that 
you  really  know  more  about  them  than  we  did,  or  that  you 
know  more  positively  the  things  which  we  merely  tried  to 
believe  ? " 

Mr.  Barton  paused  a  moment  before  replying. 

"You  remarked  a  little  while  ago,"  he  said,  "that  your 
talks  with  Dr.  Leete  had  as  yet  turned  little  on  religious 
matters.  In  introducing  you  to  the  modern  world  it  was 
entirely  right  and  logical  that  he  should  dwell  at  first  mainly 
upon  the  change  in  economic  sj'stems,  for  that  has,  of 
course,  furnished  the  necessary  material  basis  for  all  the 


266  EQUALITY. 

other  changes  that  have  taken  place.  But  I  am  sure  that 
you  will  never  meet  any  one  who,  being  asked  in  what  direc- 
tion the  progress  of  the  race  during  the  past  century  has 
tended  most  to  increase  human  happiness,  would  not  reply 
that  it  had  been  in  the  science  of  the  soul  and  its  relation 
to  the  Eternal  and  Infinite. 

"  This  progress  has  been  the  result  not  merely  of  a  more 
rational  conception  of  the  subject  and  complete  intellectual 
freedom  in  its  study,  but  largely  also  of  social  conditions 
w^hich  have  set  us  almost  wholly  free  from  material  en- 
gi'ossments.  We  have  now  for  nearly  a  century  enjoyed  an 
economic  welfare  which  has  left  nothing  to  be  wished  for 
in  the  way  of  physical  satisfactions,  especially  as  in  propor- 
tion to  the  increase  of  this  abundance  there  has  been 
through  culture  a  development  of  simplicity  in  taste  which 
rejects  excess  and  surfeit  and  ever  makes  less  and  less  of 
the  material  side  of  life  and  more  of  the  mental  and  moral. 
Thanks  to  this  co-operation  of  the  material  with  the  moral 
evolution,  the  more  we  have  the  less  we  need.  Long  ago  it 
came  to  be  recognized  that  on  the  material  side  the  race  had 
reached  the  goal  of  its  evolution.  We  have  practically  lost 
ambition  for  further  progress  in  that  direction.  The  natural 
result  has  been  that  for  a  long  period  the  main  energies  of 
the  intellect  have  been  concentrated  upon  the  possibilities 
of  the  spiritual  evolution  of  mankind  for  which  the  com- 
pletion of  its  material  evolution  has  but  prepared  the  begin- 
ning. What  we  have  so  far  learned  we  are  convinced  is 
but  the  first  faint  inkling  of  the  knowledge  we  shall  attain 
to ;  and  yet  if  the  limitations  of  this  earthly  state  were  such 
that  we  might  never  hope  here  to  know  more  than  now  we 
should  not  repine,  for  the  knowledge  we  have  has  sufficed 
to  turn  the  shadow  of  death  into  a  bow  of  promise  and  dis- 
till the  saltness  out  of  human  tears.  You  will  observe,  as 
you  shall  come  to  know  more  of  our  literature,  that  one  re- 
spect in  which  it  differs  from  yours  is  the  total  lack  of  the 
tragic  note.  This  has  very  naturally  followed,  from  a  con- 
ception of  our  real  life,  as  having  an  inaccessible  security, 
'hid  in  God,'  as  Paul  said,  whereby  the  accidents  and  vicis- 
situdes of  the  personality  are  reduced  to  relative  triviality. 

""  Your  seers  and  poets  in  exalted  moments  had  seen  that 


ERITIS  SICUT  DEUS.  267 

death  was  but  a  step  in  life,  but  this  seemed  to  most  of  you 
to  have  been  a  hard  saying.  Nowadays,  as  life  advances 
toward  its  close,  instead  of  being  shadowed  by  gloom,  it  is 
marked  by  an  access  of  impassioned  expectancy  which 
would  cause  the  young  to  envy  the  old,  but  for  the  knowl- 
edge that  in  a  little  while  the  same  door  will  be  opened  to 
them.  In  your  day  the  undertone  of  life  seems  to  have 
been  one  of  unutterable  sadness,  which,  like  the  moaning  of 
the  sea  to  those  who  live  near  the  ocean,  made  itself  audible 
whenever  for  a  moment  the  noise  and  bustle  of  petty  en- 
grossments ceased.  Now  this  undertone  is  so  exultant  that 
we  are  still  to  hear  it." 

''If  men  go  on,"  I  said,  "growing  at  this  rate  in  the 
knowledge  of  divine  things  and  the  sharing  of  the  divine 
life,  what  will  they  yet  come  to  ? " 

Mr.  Barton  smiled. 

"  Said  not  the  serpent  in  the  old  story,  '  If  you  eat  of 
the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  knowledge  you  shall  be  as  gods '  ? 
The  promise  was  true  in  words,  but  apparently  there  was 
some  mistake  about  the  tree.  Perhaps  it  was  the  tree 
of  selfish  knowledge,  or  else  the  fruit  was  not  ripe.  The . 
story  is  obscure.  Christ  later  said  the  same  thing  when  he 
told  men  that  they  might  be  the  sons  of  God.  But  he  made 
no  mistake  as  to  the  tree  he  showed  them,  and  the  fruit  was 
ripe.  It  was  the  fruit  of  love,  for  universal  love  is  at  once 
the  seed  and  fruit,  cause  and  effect,  of  the  highest  and  com- 
pletest  knowledge.  Through  boundless  love  man  becomes 
a  god,  for  thereby  is  he  made  conscious  of  his  oneness  with 
God.  and  all  things  are  put  under  his  feet.  It  has  been  only 
since  the  gi'eat  Revolution  brought  in  the  era  of  human 
brotherhood  that  mankind  has  been  able  to  eat  abundantly 
of  this  fruit  of  the  true  tree  of  knowledge,  and  thereby 
grow  more  and  more  into  the  consciousness  of  the  divine 
soul  as  the  essential  self  and  the  true  hiding  of  our  lives. 
Yes,  indeed,  we  shall  be  gods.  The  motto  of  the  modern 
civilization  is  '  Eritis  sicut  Dens.''  " 

''  You  speak  of  Christ.  Do  I  undertand  that  this  modern 
religion  is  considered  by  you  to  be  the  same  doctrine  Christ 
taught  ? " 

"  Most  certainly.     It  has  been  taught  from  the  beginning 


268      •  EQUALITY. 

of  history  and  doubtless  earlier,  but  Christ's  teaching  is 
that  which  has  most  fully  and  clearly  come  down  to  us.  It 
was  the  doctrine  that  he  taug-ht,  but  the  world  could  not 
then  receive  it  save  a  few,  nor  indeed  has  it  ever  been  pos- 
sible for  the  world  in  general  to  receive  it  or  even  to  under- 
stand it  until  this  present  century." 

"  Why  could  not  the  world  receive  earlier  the  revelation 
it  seems  to  find  so  easy  of  comprehension  now  ?  " 

"  Because,"  replied  Mr.  Barton,  "  the  prophet  and  revealer 
of  the  soul  and  of  God,  which  are  the  same,  is  love,  and  until 
these  latter  days  the  world  refused  to  hear  love,  but  crucified 
him.  The  religion  of  Christ,  depending  as  it  did  upon  the 
experience  and  intuitions  of  the  unselfish  enthusiasms, 
could  not  ]30ssibly  be  accepted  or  understood  generally  by 
a  world  which  tolerated  a  social  system  based  upon  fratri- 
cidal struggle  as  the  condition  of  existence.  Prophets, 
messiahs,  seers,  and  saints  might  indeed  for  themselves 
see  God  face  to  face,  but  it  was  impossible  that  there 
should  be  any  general  apprehension  of  God  as  Christ 
saw  him  until  social  justice  had  brought  in  brotherly  love. 
Man  must  be  revealed  to  man  as  brother  before  God  could 
be  revealed  to  him  as  father.  Nominally,  the  clergy  pro- 
fessed to  accept  and  repeat  Christ's  teaching  that  God  is  a 
loving  father,  but  of  course  it  was  simply  impossible  that 
any  such  idea  should  actually  germinate  and  take  root  in 
hearts  as  cold  and  hard  as  stone  toward  their  fellow-beings 
and  sodden  with  hate  and  suspicion  of  them.  'If  a  man 
love  not  his  brother  whom  he  hath  seen,  how  shall  he  love 
God  whom  he  hath  not  seen  ? '  The  priests  deafened  their 
flocks  with  appeals  to  love  God,  to  give  their  hearts  to 
him.  They  should  have  rather  taught  them,  as  Christ  did, 
to  love  their  fellow-men  and  give  their  hearts  to  them. 
Hearts  so  given  the  love  of  God  would  presently  enkindle, 
even  as,  according  to  the  ancients,  fire  from  heaven  might 
be  depended  on  to  ignite  a  sacrifice  fitly  prepared  and  laid. 

"  From  the  pulpit  j^onder,  Mr.  AVest,  doubtless  you  have 
many  times  heard  these  words  and  many  like  them  repeated : 
'  If  we  love  one  another  God  dwelleth  in  us  and  his  love  is 
perfected  in  us.'  '  He  that  loveth  his  brother  dwelleth  in 
the  light.'     '  If  any  man  say  I  love  God,  and  liateth  his  broth- 


ERITIS  SICUT  DEUS.  269 

er,  he  is  a  liar.'  'He  that  loveth  not  his  brother,  abideth 
in  death.'  '  God  is  love  and  he  that  dwelleth  in  love 
dwelleth  in  God.'  '  Every  one  that  loveth  knoweth  God.' 
'  He  that  loveth  not  knoweth  not  God.' 

''  Here  is  the  very  distillation  of  Christ's  teaching  as  to 
the  conditions  of  entering  on  the  divine  life.  In  this  we 
find  the  sulficient  explanation  why  the  revelation  which 
came  to  Christ  so  long  ago  and  to  otlier  illumined  souls 
could  not  possibly  be  received  by  mankind  in  general  so 
long  as  an  inhuman  social  order  made  a  wall  between  man 
and  God,  and  why,  the  moment  that  wall  was  cast  down, 
the  revelation  flooded  the  earth  like  a  sunburst. 

"  '  If  we  love  one- another  God  dwelleth  in  us,'  and  mark 
how  the  words  were  made  good  in  the  way  by  which  at 
last  the  race  found  God!  It  was  not,  remember,  by  di- 
rectly, purposely,  or  consciously  seeking  God.  The  great 
enthusiasm  of  humanity  which  overthrew  the  old  order 
and  brought  in  the  fraternal  society  was  not  primarily  or 
consciously  a  godward  aspiration  at  all.  It  was  essen- 
tially a  humane  movement.  It  was  a  melting  and  flowing 
forth  of  men's  hearts  toward  one  another,  a  rush  of  contrite, 
repentant  tenderness,  an  impassioned  impulse  of  mutual 
love  and  self-devotion  to  the  common  weal.  But  'if  we 
love  one  another  God  dwelleth  in  us,'  and  so  men  found  it. 
It  appears  that  there  came  a  moment,  the  most  transcendent 
moment  in  the  history  of  the  race  of  man,  when  with  the 
fraternal  glow  of  this  world  of  new-found  embracing  broth- 
ers there  seems  to  have  mingled  the  ineffable  thrill  of  a 
divine  participation,  as  if  the  hand  of  God  were  clasped 
over  the  joined  hands  of  men.  And  so  it  has  continued  to 
this  day  and  shall  for  evermore." 


210  EQUALITY. 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED. 

After  dinner  the  doctor  said  that  he  had  an  excursion  to 
suggest  for  the  afternoon. 

"  It  has  often  occurred  to  me,"  he  went  on,  "  that  when 
you  shall  go  out  into  the  world  and  become  familiar  with 
its  features  by  your  own  observation,  you  will,  in  looking 
back  on  these  preparatory  lessons  I  have  tried  to  give  you, 
form  a  very  poor  impression  of  my  talent  as  a  pedagogue. 
I  am  very  much  dissatisfied  myself  with  the  method  in 
which  I  have  developed  the  subject,  which,  instead  of  hav- 
ing been  philosophically  conceived  as  a  plan  of  instruction, 
has  been  merely  a  series  of  random  talks,  guided  rather  by 
your  own  curiosity  than  any  scheme  on  my  part." 

"  I  am  very  thankful,  my  dear  friend  and  teacher,"  I  re- 
plied, "  that  you  have  spared  me  the  philosophical  method. 
Without  boasting  that  I  have  acquired  so  soon  a  complete 
understanding  of  your  modern  system,  I  am  very  sure  that 
I  know  a  good  deal  more  about  it  than  I  otherwise  should, 
for  the  very  reason  that  you  have  so  good-naturedly  fol- 
lowed the  lead  of  my  curiosity  instead  of  tying  me  to  the 
tailboard  of  a  method." 

"I  should  certainly  like  to  believe,"  said  the  doctor, 
"  that  our  talks  have  been  as  instructive  to  you  as  they  have 
been  delightful  to  me,  and  if  I  have  made  mistakes  it  should 
be  remembered  that  j^erhaps  no  instructor  ever  had  or  is 
likely  to  have  a  task  quite  so  large  as  mine,  or  one  so  unex- 
pectedly thrust  upon  him,  or,  finally,  one  which,  being  so 
large,  the  natural  curiosity  of  his  pupil  compelled  him  to 
cover  in  so  short  a  time." 

"  But  you  were  speaking  of  an  excursion  for  this  after- 
noon." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor.  "  It  is  a  suggestion  in  the  line 
of  an  attempt  to  remedy  some  few  of  my  too  probable  omis- 
sions of  important  things  in  trying  to  acquaint  you  with 
how  we  live  now.  What  do  you  say  to  chartering  an  air 
car  this  afternoon  for  the  purpose  of  taking  a  bird's-eye 
view  of  the  city  and  environs,  and  seeing  what  its  various 


SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  271 

aspects  may  sug-gest  in  the  way  of  features  of  present-day 
civilization  which  we  have  not  touched  upon  ? " 

The  idea  struck  me  as  admirable,  and  we  at  once  pro- 
ceeded to  put  it  in  execution. 

In  these  brief  and  fragmentary  reminiscences  of  my  first 
experiences  in  the  modern  world  it  is,  of  course,  impossible 
that  I  should  refer  to  one  in  a  hundred  of  the  startling 
things  which  happened  to  me.  Still,  even  with  that  limita- 
tion, it  may  seem  strange  to  my  readers  that  I  have  not 
had  more  to  say  of  the  Avonder  excited  in  my  mind  by  the 
number  and  character  of  the  great  mechanical  inventions 
and  applications  unknown  in  my  day,  which  contribute  to 
the  material  fabric  and  actuate  the  mechanism  of  your  civ- 
ilization. For  example,  although  this  was  very  far  from 
being  my  first  air  trip,  I  do  not  think  that  I  have  before 
referred  to  a  sort  of  experience  which,  to  a  representative 
of  the  last  century,  must  naturally  have  been  nothing  less 
than  astounding.  I  can  only  say,  by  way  of  explanation  of 
this  seeming  indifference  to  the  mechanical  wonders  of  this 
age,  that  had  they  been  ten  times  more  marvelous,  they 
would  still  have  impressed  me  with  infinitely  less  aston- 
ishment than  the  moral  revolution  illustrated  by  your  new 
social  order. 

This,  I  am  sure,  is  what  would  be  the  experience  of  any 
man  of  my  time  under  my  circumstances.  The  march  of 
scientific  discovery  and  mechanical  invention  during  the 
last  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  had  already  been  so 
great  and  was  proceeding  so  rapidly  that  we  were  prepared 
to  expect  almost  any  amount  of  development  in  the  same 
lines  in  the  future.  Your  submarine  shipping  we  had  dis- 
tinctly anticipated  and  even  partially  realized.  The  discov- 
ery of  the  electrical  powers  had  made  almost  any  mechan- 
ical conception  seem  possible.  As  to  navigation  of  the  air, 
we  fully  expected  that  would  be  somehow  successfully 
solved  by  our  grandchildren  if  not  by  our  children.  If,  in- 
deed, I  had  not  found  men  sailing  the  air  I  should  have 
been  distinctly  disappointed. 

But  while  we  were  prepared  to  expect  well-nigh  any- 
thing of  man's  intellectual  development  and  the  perfecting 


272  EQUALITY. 

of  his  mastery  over  the  material  world,  we  were  utterly- 
skeptical  as  to  the  possibility  of  any  large  moral  improve- 
ment on  his  part.  As  a  moral  being,  we  believed  that  he 
had  got  his  growth,  as  the  saying  was,  and  would  never  in 
this  world  at  least  attain  to  a  nobler  stature.  As  a  philo- 
sophical proposition,  we  recognized  as  fully  as  you  do  that 
the  golden  rule  would  afford  the  basis  of  a  social  life  in 
which  every  one  would  be  infinitely  happier  than  anybody 
was  in  our  world,  and  that  the  true  interest  of  all  would  be 
furthered  by  establishing  such  a  social  order ;  but  we  held 
at  the  same  time  that  the  moral  baseness  and  self-blinding 
selfishness  of  man  would  forever  prevent  him  from  realizing 
such  an  ideal.  In  vain,  had  he  been  endowed  with  a  god- 
like intellect ;  it  would  not  avail  him  for  any  of  the  higher 
uses  of  life,  for  an  ineradicable  moral  perverseness  would 
always  hinder  him  from  doing  as  well  as  he  knew  and  hold 
him  in  hopeless  subjection  to  the  basest  and  most  suicidal 
impulses  of  his  nature. 

"  Impossible ;  it  is  against  human  nature  ! "  was  the  cry 
which  met  and  for  the  most  part  overbore  and  silenced  every 
prophet  or  teacher  who  sought  to  rouse  the  world  to  discon- 
tent with  the  reign  of  chaos  and  awaken  faith  in  the  possi- 
bility of  a  kingdom  of  God  on  earth. 

Is  it  any  wonder,  then,  that  one  like  me,  bred  in  that  at- 
mosphere of  moral  despair,  should  pass  over  with  compara- 
tively little  attention  the  miraculous  material  achievements 
of  this  age,  to  study  with  ever-growing  awe  and  wonder  the 
secret  of  your  just  and  joyous  living  ? 

As  I  look  back  I  see  now  how  truly  this  base  view  of 
human  nature  was  the  greatest  infidelity  to  God  and  man 
which  the  human  race  ever  fell  into,  but,  alas !  it  was  not 
the  infidelity  which  the  churches  condemned,  but  rather  a 
sort  which  their  teachings  of  man's  hopeless  depravity  were 
calculated  to  implant  and  confirm. 

This  very  matter  of  air  navigation  of  which  I  was  speak- 
ing suggests  a  striking  illustration  of  the  strange  combination 
on  the  part  of  my  contemporaries  of  unlimited  faith  in 
man's  material  progress  with  total  unbelief  in  his  moral 
possibilities.  As  I  have  said,  we  fully  expected  that  pos- 
terity would  achieve  air  navigation,  but  the  application  of 


SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  273 

the  art  most  discussed  was  its  use  in  war  to  drop  dynamite 
bombs  in  the  midst  of  crowded  cities.  Try  to  realize  that  if 
you  can.  Even  Tennyson,  in  his  vision  of  the  future,  saw 
nothing  more.     You  remember  how  he 

Heard  the  heavens  fill  with  shouting, 

And  there  rained  a  ghastly  dew 
From  the  nations  airy  navies, 

Grappling  in  the  central  bine. 

HOW   THE    PEOPLE    HOLD   THE    REINS. 

"And  now^"  said  the  doctor,  as  he  checked  the  rise  of 
our  car  at  an  altitude  of  about  one  thousand  feet,  "  let  us 
attend  to  our  lesson.  What  do  you  see  down  there  to  sug- 
gest a  question  ? " 

"Well,  to  begin  with,-'  I  said,  as  the  dome  of  the  State- 
house  caught  my  eye,  "  what  on  earth  have  you  stuck  up 
there  ?  It  looks  for  all  the  world  like  one  of  those  self- 
steering  windmills  the  farmers  in  my  day  used  to  i^ump  up 
water  with.  Surely  that  is  an  odd  sort  of  ornament  for  a 
public  building." 

"  It  is  not  intended  as  an  ornament,  but  a  symbol,"  re- 
plied the  doctor.  "  It  represents  the  modern  ideal  of  a 
proper  system  of  government.  The  mill  stands  for  the  ma- 
chinery of  administration,  the  wind  that  drives  it  symbol- 
izes the  public  will,  and  the  rudder  that  always  keeps  the 
vane  of  the  mill  before  the  wind,  however  suddenly  or  com- 
pletely the  wind  may  change,  stands  for  the  method  by 
which  the  administration  is  kept  at  all  times  responsive  and 
obedient  to  every  mandate  of  the  people,  though  it  be  but  a 
breath. 

"  I  have  talked  to  you  so  much  on  that  subject  that  I 
need  enlarge  no  further  on  the  impossibility  of  having  any 
popular  government  worthy  of  the  name  which  is  not  based 
upon  the  economic  equality  of  the  citizens  with  its  implica- 
tions and  consequences.  No  constitutional  devices  or  clev- 
erness of  parliamentary  machinery  could  have  possibly 
made  popular  government  anj^thing  but  a  farce,  so  long  as 
the  private  economic  interest  of  the  citizen  was  distinct 
from  and  opposed  to  the  public  interest,  and  the  so-called 


274  EQUALITY. 

sovereign  people  ate  their  bread  from  the  hand  of  capitalists. 
Given,  on  the  other  hand,  economic  unity  of  private  inter- 
ests with  public  interest,  the  comi3lete  independence  of 
every  individual  on  every  other,  and  universal  culture  to 
cap  all,  and  no  imperfection  of  administrative  machinery 
could  prevent  the  government  from  being  a  good  one. 
Nevertheless,  we  have  improved  the  machinery  as  much  as 
we  have  the  motive  force.  You  used  to  vote  once  a  year, 
or  in  two  years,  or  in  six  years,  as  the  case  might  be,  for 
those  who  were  to  rule  over  you  till  the  next  election,  and 
those  rulers,  from  the  moment  of  their  election  to  the  term 
of  their  offices,  were  as  irresponsible  as  czars.  They  were 
far  more  so,  indeed,  for  the  czar  at  least  had  a  supreme  mo- 
tive to  leave  his  inheritance  unimpaired  to  his  son,  while 
these  elected  tyrants  had  no  interest  except  in  making  the 
most  they  could  out  of  their  power  while  they  held  it. 

"  It  appears  to  us  that  it  is  an  axiom  of  democratic  gov- 
ernment that  power  should  never  be  delegated  irrevocably 
for  an  hour,  but  should  always  be  subject  to  recall  by  the 
delegating  power.  Public  officials  are  nowadays  chosen  for 
a  term  as  a  matter  of  convenience,  but  it  is  not  a  term  posi- 
tive. They  are  liable  to  have  their  powers  revoked  at  any 
moment  by  the  vote  of  their  principals  ;  neither  is  any  meas- 
ure of  more  than  merely  routine  character  ever  passed  by  a 
representative  body  without  reference  back  to  the  people. 
The  vote  of  no  delegate  upon  any  important  measure  can 
stand  until  his  principals — or  constituents,  as  you  used  to 
call  them — have  had  the  opportunity  to  cancel  it.  An  elected 
agent  of  the  people  who  offended  the  sentiment  of  the  elect- 
ors would  be  displaced,  and  his  act  repudiated  the  next  day. 
You  may  infer  that  under  this  system  the  agent  is  solicitous 
to  keep  in  contact  with  his  principals.  Not  only  do  these 
precautions  exist  against  irresponsible  legislation,  but  the 
original  proposition  of  measures  comes  from  the  people 
more  often  than  from  their  representatives. 

"  So  complete  through  our  telephone  system  has  the  most 
complicated  sort  of  voting  become,  that  the  entire  nation  is 
organized  so  as  to  be  able  to  proceed  almost  like  one  parlia- 
ment if  needful.  Our  representative  bodies,  corresponding 
to  vour  former  Congresses.  Legislatures,  and  Parliaments,  are 


SEVERAL  IMPOHTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  275 

under  this  system  reduced  to  the  exercise  of  the  functions  of 
Avhat  you  used  to  call  congressional  committees.  The  peo- 
ple not  only  nominally  but  actually  govern.  We  have  a 
democracy  in  fact. 

''  We  take  pains  to  exercise  this  direct  and  constant  su- 
pervision of  our  affairs  not  because  we  suspect  or  fear  our 
elected  agents.  Under  our  system  of  indefeasible,  unchange- 
able, economic  equality  there  is  no  motive  or  opportunity 
for  venality.  There  is  no  motive  for  doing  evil  that  could 
be  for  a  moment  set  against  the  overwhelming  motive  of 
deserving  the  public  esteem,  Avhich  is  indeed  the  only  pos- 
sible object  that  nowadays  could  induce  any  one  to  accept 
office.  All  our  vital  interests  are  secured  beyond  disturbance 
by  the  very  framework  of  society.  We  could  safely  turn 
over  to  a  selected  body  of  citizens  the  management  of  the 
public  affairs  for  their  lifetime.  The  reason  we  do  not  is 
that  we  enjoy  the  exhilaration  of  conducting  the  govern- 
ment of  affairs  directly.  You  might  compare  us  to  a  wealthy 
man  of  3'our  day  who.  though  having  in  his  service  any 
number  of  expert  coachmen,  preferred  to  handle  the  reins 
himself  for  the  jDleasure  of  it.  You  used  to  vote  perhaps 
once  a  year,  taking  five  minutes  for  it,  and  grudging  the 
time  at  that  as  lost  from  your  private  business,  the  pursuit 
of  which  you  called,  I  believe,  '  the  main  chance.'  Our  pri- 
vate business  is  the  public  business,  and  we  have  no  other  of 
importance.  Our  '  main  chance '  is  the  public  welfare,  and 
we  have  no  other  chance.  We  vote  a  hundred  times  per- 
haps in  a  year,  on  all  manner  of  questions,  from  the  tem- 
perature of  the  public  baths  or  the  plan  to  be  selected  for  a 
public  building,  to  the  greatest  questions  of  the  world  union, 
and  find  the  exercise  at  once  as  exhilarating  as  it  is  in  the 
highest  sense  educational. 

"  And  now,  Julian,  look  down  again  and  see  if  you  do 
not  find  some  other  feature  of  the  scene  to  hang  a  question 
on." 

THE    LITTLE   W\\RS   AND   THE    GREAT  WAR. 

''I  observe,"  I  said,  "that  the  harbor  forts  are  still  there. 
I  suppose  you  retain  them,  like  the  specimen  tenement 
houses,  as  historical  evidences  of  the  barbarism  of  your  an- 
cestors, my  contemporaries." 


276  EQUALITY. 

"  You  must  not  be  offended,"  said  the  doctor,  "  if  I  say 
that  we  really  have  to  keep  a  full  assortment  of  such  ex- 
hibits, for  fear  the  children  should  flatly  refuse  to  believe 
the  accounts  the  books  give  of  the  unaccountable  antics  of 
their  great-g-randf athers.  *' 

"The  guarantee  of  international  peace  which  the  world 
union  has  brought,"  I  said,  "must  surely  be  regarded  by 
your  people  as  one  of  the  most  signal  achievements  of  the 
new  order,  and  yet  it  strikes  me  I  have  heard  you  say  very 
little  about  it." 

"  Of  course,"  said  the  doctor,  "  it  is  a  great  thing  in  itself, 
but  so  incomparably  less  important  than  the  abolition  of  the 
economic  war  between  man  and  man  that  we  regard  it  as 
merely  incidental  to  the  latter.  Nothing  is  much  more 
astonishing  about  the  mental  operations  of  your  contem- 
poraries than  the  fuss  they  made  about  the  cruelty  of  your 
occasional  international  wars  while  seemingly  oblivious  to 
the  horrors  of  the  battle  for  existence  in  which  you  all  were 
perpetually  involved.  From  our  point  of  view,  your  wars, 
while  of  course  very  foolish,  were  comparatively  humane 
and  altogether  petty  exhibitions  as  contrasted  with  the  fra- 
tricidal economic  struggle.  In  the  wars  only  men  took 
part — strong,  selected  men,  comprising  but  a  very  small 
part  of  the  total  population.  There  were  no  vromen,  no 
children,  no  old  people,  no  cripples  allowed  to  go  to  war. 
The  wounded  were  carefully  looked  after,  whether  by 
friends  or  foes,  and  nursed  back  to  health.  The  rules  of 
war  forbade  unnecessary  cruelty,  and  at  any  time  an  honor- 
able surrender,  with  good  treatment,  was  open  to  the  beaten. 
The  battles  generally  took  place  on  the  frontiers,  out  of  sight 
and  sound,  of  the  masses.  Wars  were  also  very  rare,  often 
not  one  in  a  generation.  Finally,  the  sentiments  appealed 
to  in  international  conflicts  were,  as  a  rule,  those  of  courage 
and  self-devotion.  Often,  indeed  generally,  the  causes  of 
the  wars  were  unworthy  of  the  sentiments  of  self-devotion 
which  the  fighting  called  out,  but  the  sentiments  themselves 
belonged  to  the  noblest  order. 

"  Compare  with  warfare  of  this  character  the  conditions 
of  the  economic  struggle  for  existence.  That  was  a  war  in 
which  not  merely  small  selected  bodies  of  combatants  took 


SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  277 

part,  but  one  in  which  the  entire  xjopulation  of  every  coun- 
try, excepting-  the  inconsiderable  groups  of  the  rich,  were 
forcibly  enlisted  and  compelled  to  serve.  Not  only  did 
women,  children,  the  aged  and  crippled  have  to  participate 
in  it,  but  the  weaker  the  combatants  the  harder  the  condi- 
tions under  which  they  must  contend.  It  was  a  war  in 
which  there  was  no  help  for  the  wounded,  no  quarter  for 
the  vanquished.  It  was  a  war  not  on  far  frontiers,  but  in 
every  city,  every  street,  and  every  house,  and  its  wounded, 
broken,  and  dying  victims  lay  underfoot  everywhere  and 
shocked  the  eye  in  every  direction  that  it  might  glance  with 
some  new  form  of  misery.  The  ear  could  not  escape  the 
lamentations  of  the  stricken  and  their  vain  cries  for  pity. 
And  this  war  came  not  once  or  twice  in  a  century,  lasting 
for  a  few  red  weeks  or  months  or  years,  and  giving  way 
again  to  pe^ce,  as  did  the  battles  of  the  soldiers,  but  was  per- 
ennial and  perpetual,  truceless,  lifelong.  Finally,  it  w^as  a 
war  which  neither  appealed  to  nor  developed  any  noble, 
any  generous,  any  honorable  sentiment,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, set  a  constant  premium  on  the  meanest,  falsest,  and 
most  cruel  propensities  of  human  nature. 

"As  we  look  back  upon  your  era,  the  sort  of  fighting 
those  old  forts  down  there  stood  for  seems  almost  noble  and 
barely  tragical  at  all,  as  compared  with  the  awful  spectacle 
of  the  struggle  for  existence. 

"  We  even  are  able  to  sympathize  v;itli  the  declaration  of 
some  of  the  professional  soldiers  of  your  age  that  occasional 
wars,  with  their  appeals,  however  false,  to  the  generous  and 
self-devoting  passions,  were  absolutely  necessary  to  prevent 
your  society,  otherwise  so  utterly  sordid  and  selfish  in  its 
ideals,  from  dissolving  into  absolute  putrescence." 

''  It  is  to  be  feared,"  I  was  moved  to  observe,  "  that  pos- 
terity has  not  built  so  high  a  monument  to  the  promoters 
of  the  universal  peace  societies  of  ray  day  as  they  expected." 

"  They  were  well  meaning  enough  so  far  as  they  saw,  no 
doubt,"  said  the  doctor,  "but  seem  to  have  been  a  dreadfully 
short-sighted  and  purblind  set  of  people.  Their  efforts  to 
stop  wars  between  nations,  while  tranquilly  ignoring  the 
world-wide  economic  struggle  for  existence  w^hich  cost  more 
lives  and  suffering  in  any  one  month  than  did  the  inter- 
19 


278  EQUALITY. 

national  wars  of  a  generation,  was  a  most  striking  case  of 
straining  at  a  gnat  and  swallowing  a  camel. 

"  As  to  the  gain  to  humanity  which  has  come  from  the 
abolition  of  all  war  or  possibility  of  war  between  nations 
of  to-day,  it  seems  to  us  to  consist  not  so  much  in  the 
mere  prevention  of  actual  bloodshed  as  in  the  dying  out  of 
the  old  jealousies  and  rancors  which  used  to  embitter  peo- 
ples against  one  another  almost  as  much  in  peace  as  in 
war,  and  the  growth  in  their  stead  of  a  fraternal  sympathy 
and  mutual  good  will,  unconscious  of  any  barrier  of  race 
or  country." 

THE   OLD   PATRIOTISM   AND   THE   NEW. 

As  the  doctor  was  speaking,  the  waving  folds  of  a  flag 
floating  far  below  caught  my  eye.  It  ^vas  the  Star-Spangled 
Banner.  My  heart  leaped  at  the  sight  and  my  eyes  grew 
moist. 

"Ah!"  I  exclaimed,  "it  is  Old  Glory!"  for  so  it  had 
been  a  custom  to  call  the  flag  in  tlie  days  of  the  civil  war 
and  after. 

"  Yes,"  replied  my  companion,  as  his  eyes  followed  my 
gaze,  "  but  it  wears  a  new  glory  now,  because  nowhere  in  the 
land  it  floats  over  is  there  found  a  human  being  oppressed 
or  suffering  any  want  that  human  aid  can  relieve. 

"  The  i^mericans  of  your  day,"  he  continued,  "  were  ex- 
tremely patriotic  after  their  fashion,  but  the  diiterence  be- 
tween the  old  and  the  new  patriotism  is  so  great  that  it 
scarcely  seems  like  the  same  sentiment.  *  In  your  day  and 
ever  before,  the  emotions  and  associations  of  the  flag  were 
chiefly  of  the  martial  sort.  Self-devotion  to  the  nation  in 
war  with  other  nations  was  the  idea  most  commonly  con- 
veyed by  the  word  '  patriotism  '  and  its  derivatives.  Of 
course,  that  must  be  so  in  ages  when  the  nations  had  con- 
stantly to  stand  ready  to  flght  one  another  for  their  exist- 
ence. But  the  result  was  that  the  sentiment  of  national  soli- 
darity was  arrayed  against  the  sentiment  of  human  solidarity. 
A  lesser  social  enthusiasm  was  set  in  o^Dposition  to  a  greater, 
and  the  result  was  necessarily  full  of  moral  contradictions. 
Too  often  what  was  called  love  of  country  might  better 
have  been  described  as  hate  and  jealousy  of  other  countries, 


SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  279 

for  no  better  reason  than  that  there  were  other,  and  bigoted 
prejudices  against  foreign  ideas  and  institutions — often  far 
better  than  domestic  ones — for  no  other  reason  than  that 
they  were  foreign.  This  sort  of  patriotism  was  a  most  po- 
tent hindrance  for  countless  ages  to  the  progress  of  civili- 
zation, opposing  to  the  spread  of  new  ideas  barriers  higher 
than  mountains,  broader  than  rivers,  deeper  than  seas. 

"  The  new  patriotism  is  the  natural  outcome  of  the  new 
social  and  international  conditions  which  date  from  the 
great  Revolution.  Wars,  which  Avere  already  growing  in- 
frequent in  your  day,  were  made  impossible  by  the  rise  of 
the  world  union,  and  for  generations  have  now  been  un- 
known. The  old  blood-stained  frontiers  of  the  nations  have 
become  scarcely  more  than  delimitations  of  territory  for  ad- 
ministrative convenience,  like  the  State  lines  in  the  American 
Union.  Under  these  circumstances  international  jealousies, 
suspicions,  animosities,  and  apprehensions  have  died  a  natu- 
ral death.  The  anniversaries  of  battles  and  triumphs  over 
other  nations,  by  which  the  antique  patriotism  was  kept 
burning,  have  been  long  ago  forgotten.  In  a  word,  patriot- 
ism is  no  longer  a  martial  sentiment  and  is  quite  without 
warlike  associations.  As  the  flag  has  lost  its  former  sig- 
nificance as  an  emblem  of  outward  defiance,  it  has  gained 
a  new  meaning  as  the  supreme  symbol  of  internal  concord 
and  mutuality ;  it  has  become  the  visible  sign  of  the  social 
solidarity  in  which  the  welfare  of  all  is  equally  and  im- 
pregnably  secured.  The  American,  as  he  now  lifts  his  eyes 
to  the  ensign  of  the  nation,  is  not  reminded  of  its  military 
prowess  as  compared  with  other  nations,  of  its  past  triumphs 
in  battle  and  x)ossible  future  victories.  To  him  the  waving 
folds  convey  no  such  suggestions.  They  recall  rather  the 
compact  of  brotherhood  in  which  he  stands  pledged  with  all 
his  countrymen  mutually  to  safeguard  the  equal  dignity  and 
welfare  of  each  by  the  might  of  all. 

"  The  idea  of  the  old-time  patriots  was  that  foreigners 
were  the  only  people  at  whose  hands  the  flag  could  suffer 
dishonor,  and  the  report  of  any  lack  of  etiquette  toward  it 
on  their  part  used  to  excite  the  people  to  a  patriotic  frenzy. 
That  sort  of  feeling  would  be  simply  incomprehensible  now. 
As  we  look  at  it,  foreigners  have  no  power  to  insult  the 


280  EQUALITY. 

flag,  for  they  have  nothing  to  do  ynth.  it,  nor  with  what  it 
stands  for.  Its  honor  or  dishonor  must  depend  upon  the 
people  whose  plighted  faith  one  to  another  it  represents,  to 
maintain  the  social  contract.  To  the  old-time  patriot  there 
was  nothing  incongruous  in  the  spectacle  of  the  symbol  of 
the  national  unity  floating  over  cities  reeking  with  foulest 
oppressions,  full  of  prostitution,  beggary,  and  dens  of  name- 
less misery.  According  to  the  modern  view,  the  existence 
of  a  single  instance  in  any  corner  of  the  land  where  a  citi- 
zen had  been  deprived  of  the  full  enjoyment  of  equality 
would  turn  the  flag  into  a  flaunting  lie,  and  the  people 
would  demand  with  indignation  that  it  should  be  hauled 
down  and  not  i-aised  again  till  the  wrong  was  remedied." 

"  Truly,"  I  said,  "  the  new  glory  which  Old  Glory  wears 
is  a  greater  than  the  old  glory." 

MORE  FOREIGN  TRAVEL  BUT  LESS  FOREIGN  TRADE. 

As  we  had  talked,  the  doctor  had  allowed  our  car  to  drift 
before  the  westerly  breeze  till  now  we  were  over  the  harbor, 
and  I  was  moved  to  exclaim  at  the  scanty  array  of  shipping 
it  contained. 

"  It  does  not  seem  to  me,"  I  said,  "  that  there  are  more 
vessels  here  than  in  my  day,  much  less  the  great  fleets  one 
might  expect  to  see  after  a  century's  development  in  popu- 
lation and  resources." 

"In  point  of  fact,"  said  the  doctor,  "the  new  order  has 
tended  to  decrease  the  volume  of  foreign  trade,  though  on 
the  other  hand  there  is  a  thousandfold  more  foreign  travel 
for  instruction  and  pleasure." 

"  In  just  what  way,"  I  asked,  "  did  the  new  order  tend  to 
decrease  exchanges  with  foreign  countries  ? " 

"  In  two  ways,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  In  the  first  place,  as 
you  know,  the  profit  idea  is  now  abolished  in  foreign  trade 
as  well  as  in  domestic  distribution.  The  International 
Council  supervises  all  exchanges  between  nations,  and  the 
price  of  any  product  exported  by  one  nation  to  another 
must  not  be  more  than  that  at  which  the  exporting  nation 
provides  its  own  people  with  the  same.  Consequently  there 
is  no  reason  why  a  nation  should  care  to  produce  goods  for 
export  unless  and  in  so  far  as  it  needs  for  actual  consump- 


SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  281 

tion  i:>i'oducts  of  another  country  which  it  can  not  itself  so 
well  produce. 

''Another  yet  more  potent  effect  of  the  new  order  in 
limiting  foreign  exchange  is  the  general  equalization  of  all 
nations  which  has  long  ago  come  about  as  to  intelligence 
and  the  knowledge  and  practice  of  sciences  and  arts.  A 
nation  of  to-day  would  be  humiliated  to  have  to  import  any 
commodity  which  insuperable  natural  conditions  did  not 
prevent  the  production  of  at  home.  It  is  consequently  to 
such  productions  that  commerce  is  now  limited,  and  the  list 
of  them  grows  ever  shorter  as  with  the  progress  of  inven- 
tion man's  conquest  of  Nature  proceeds.  As  to  the  old  ad- 
vantage of  coal-producing  countries  in  manufacturing,  that 
disappeared  nearly  a  century  ago  with  the  great  discoveries 
which  made  the  unlimited  development  of  ^electrical  power 
practically  costless. 

"  But  you  should  understand  that  it  is  not  merely  on 
economic  grounds  or  for  self-esteem's  sake  that  the  various 
peoples  desire  to  do  everything  possible  for  themselves 
rather  than  depend  on  people  at  a  distance.  It  is  quite  as 
much  for  the  education  and  mind-awakening  influence  of  a 
diversified  industrial  system  vvdthin  a  small  space.  It  is  our 
policy,  so  far  as  it  can  be  economically  carried  out  in  the 
grouping  of  industries,  not  only  to  make  the  system  of  each 
nation  complete,  but  so  to  group  the  various  industries  within 
each  particular  country  that  every  considerable  district  shall 
present  within  its  own  limits  a  sort  of  microcosm  of  the 
industrial  world.  We  were  speaking  of  that,  you  may  re- 
member, the  other  morning,  in  the  Labor  Exchange." 

THE  MODERN  DOCTOR'S  EASY  TASK. 

The  doctor  had  some  time  before  reversed  our  course, 
and  we  were  now  moving  westward  over  the  city. 

"  What  is  that  building  which  we  are  just  passing  over 
that  has  so  much  glass  about  it  ?  "  I  asked. 

"That  is  one  of  the  sanitariums,"  replied  the  doctor, 
"  which  people  go  to  who  are  in  bad  health  and  do  not  wish 
to  change  their  climate,  as  we  think  per.sons  in  serious 
chronic  ill  health  ought  to  do  and  as  all  can  now  do  if  they 
desire.      In   these   buildings  everything    is    as    absolutely 


282  EQUALITY. 

adapted  to  the  condition  of  the  patient  as  if  he  were  for  the 
time  being-  in  a  world  in  which  his  disease  were  the  normal 
type." 

"  Doubtless  there  have  been  great  improvements  in  all 
matters  relating  to  your  profession — medicine,  hygiene,  sur- 
gery, and  the  rest — since  my  day." 

''  Yes,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  there  have  been  great  im- 
provements in  two  ways — negative  and  positive — and  the 
more  important  of  the  two  is  perhaps  the  negative  way, 
consisting  in  the  disappearance  of  conditions  inimical  to 
health,  which  physicians  formerly  had  to  combat  with  little 
chance  of  success  in  many  cases.  For  example,  it  is  now 
two  full  generations  since  the  guarantee  of  equal  main- 
tenance for  all  placed  women  in  a  position  of  economic 
independence  and  consequent  complete  control  of  their 
relations  to  men.  You  will  readily  understand  how,  as 
one  result  of  this,  the  taint  of  syphilis  has  been  long 
since  eliminated  from  the  blood  of  the  race.  The  universal 
prevalence  now  for  three  generations  of  the  most  cleanly 
and  refined  conditions  of  housing,  clothing,  heating,  and 
living  generally,  with  the  best  treatment  available  for  all 
in  case  of  sickness,  have  practically — indeed  I  may  say  com- 
pletely— put  an  end  to  the  zymotic  and  other  contagious 
diseases.  To  complete  the  story,  add  to  these  improvements 
in  the  hygienic  conditions  of  the  people  the  systematic  and 
universal  physical  culture  which  is  a  part  of  the  training  of 
youth,  and  then  as  a  crowning  consideration  think  of  the 
effect  of  the  physical  rehabilitation — you  might  almost  call 
it  the  second  creation  of  woman  in  a  bodily  sense — which 
has  purified  and  energized  the  stream  of  life  at  its  source." 

"  Really,  doctor,  I  should  say  that,  without  going  fur- 
ther, you  have  fairly  reasoned  your  profession  out  of  its  oc- 
cupation." 

"  You  may  well  say  so,"  replied  the  doctor.  "The  prog- 
ress of  invention  and  improvement  since  your  day  has  sev- 
eral times  over  improved  the  doctors  out  of  their  former 
occupations,  just  as  it  has  every  other  sort  of  worlvcrs,  but 
only  to  open  new  and  higher  fields  of  finer  work. 

"Perhaps,"  my  companion  resumed,  "a  more  important 
negative  factor  in  the  improvement  in  medical  and  hygienic 


SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  283 

conditions  than  any  I  have  mentioned  is  the  fact  that  peo- 
ple are  no  longer  in  the  state  of  ignorance  as  to  their  own 
bodies  that  they  seem  formerly  to  have  been.  The  prog- 
ress of  knowledge  in  that  respect  has  kept  pace  with  the 
march  of  universal  culture.  It  is  evident  from  what  we 
read  that  even  the  cultured  classes  in  your  day  thought  it 
no  shame  to  be  wholly  uninformed  as  to  physiology  and 
the  ordinary  conditions  of  health  and  disease.  They  appear 
to  have  left  their  physical  interests  to  the  doctors,  with 
much  the  same  spirit  of  cynical  resignation  with  which  they 
turned  over  their  souls  to  the  care  of  the  clergy.  Nowa- 
days a  system  of  education  would  be  thought  farcical  which 
did  not  impart  a  sufficient  knowledge  of  the  general  prin- 
ciples of  physiology,  hygiene,  and  medicine  to  enable  a 
person  to  treat  any  ordinary  physical  disturbance  without 
recourse  to  a  physician.  It  is  perhaps  not  too  much  to  say 
that  everybody  nowadays  knows  as  much  about  the  treat- 
ment of  disease  as  a  large  proportion  of  the  members  of  the 
medical  profession  did  in  your  time.  As  you  may  readily 
suppose,  this  is  a  situation  which,  even  apart  from  the  gen- 
eral improvement  in  health,  would  enable  the  people  to 
get  on  with  one  physician  where  a  score  formerly  found 
business.  We  doctors  are  merely  specialists  and  experts 
on  subjects  that  everybody  is  supposed  to  be  well  grounded 
in.  When  we  are  called  in,  it  is  really  only  in  consultation, 
to  use  a  phrase  of  the  profession  in  your  day,  the  other  par- 
ties being  the  patient  and  his  friends. 

"  But  of  all  the  factors  in  the  advance  of  medical  sci- 
ence, one  of  the  most  important  has  been  the  disappearance 
of  sectarianism,  resulting  largely  from  the  same  causes, 
moral  and  economic,  which  banished  it  from  religion.  You 
will  scarcely  need  to  be  reminded  that  in  your  day  medi- 
cine, next  to  theology,  suflPered  most  of  all  branches  of 
knowledge  from  the  benumbing  influence  of  dogmatic 
schools.  There  seems  to  have  been  well-nigh  as  much  big- 
otry as  to  the  science  of  curing  the  body  as  the  soul,  and 
its  influence  to  discourage  original  thought  and  retard  jDrog- 
ress  was  much  the  same  in  one  field  as  the  other. 

"  There  are  really  no  conditions  to  limit  the  course  of 
physicians.    The  medical  education  is  the  fullest  possible,  but 


284  EQUALITY. 

the  methods  of  practice  are  left  to  the  doctor  and  patient. 
It  is  assumed  that  people  as  cultured  as  ours  are  as  compe- 
tent to  elect  the  treatment  for  their  bodies  as  to  choose  that 
for  their  souls.  The  progress  in  medical  science  which  has 
resulted  from  this  complete  independence  and  freedom  of 
initiative  on  the  part  of  the  physician,  stimulated  by  the 
criticism  and  aj)plause  of  a  people  well  able  to  judge  of 
results,  has  been  unprecedented.  Not  on]j  in  the  specific 
application  of  the  preserving  and  healing  arts  have  innu- 
merable achievements  been  made  and  radically  new  prin- 
ciples discovered,  but  we  have  made  advances  toward  a 
knowledge  of  the  central  mystery  of  life  which  in  your 
day  it  would  have  been  deemed  almost  sacrilegious  to  dream 
of.  As  to  pain,  we  permit  it  only  for  its  s^^mptomatic  indi- 
cations, and  so  far  only  as  we  need  its  guidance  in  diag- 
nosis." 

"  I  take  it,  however,  that  you  have  not  abolished  death." 
"  I  assure  you,"  laughed  the  doctor,  "  that  if  perchance 
any  one  should  find  out  the  secret  of  that,  the  people  would 
mob  him  and  burn  up  his  formula.     Do  you  suppose  we 
want  to  be  shut  up  here  forever  ? " 

"HOW   COULD   WE   INDEED?" 

Applying  myself  again  to  the  study  of  the  moving  pan- 
orama below  us,  I  presently  remarked  to  the  doctor  that  we 
must  be  pretty  nearly  over  what  Avas  formerly  called 
Brighton,  a  suburb  of  the  city  at  which  the  live  stock  for 
the  food  supply  of  the  city  had  mainly  been  delivered. 

"  I  see  the  old  cattle-sheds  are  gone,"  I  said.  "  Doubtless 
you  have  much  better  arrangements.  By  the  way,  now  that 
everybody  is  well-to-do,  and  can  afford  the  best  cuts  of  beef, 
I  imagine  the  problem  of  providing  a  big  city  with  fresh 
meats  must  be  much  more  difficult  than  in  my  day,  when 
the  poor  were  able  to  consume  little  flesh  food,  and  that  of 
the  poorest  sort." 

The  doctor  looked  over  the  side  of  the  car  for  some  mo- 
ments before  answering. 

"  I  take  it,"  he  said,  "  that  you  have  not  spoken  to  any 
one  before  on  this  point." 

"Why,  I  think  not.     It  has  not  before  occurred  to  me." 


SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  285 

''  It  is  just  as  well,"  said  the  doctor.  "  You  see,  Julian, 
in  the  transformation  in  customs  and  habits  of  thought  and 
standards  of  fitness  since  your  day,  it  could  scarcely  have 
happened  but  that  in  some  cases  the  changes  should  have 
been  attended  with  a  decided  revulsion  in  sentiment  against 
the  former  practices.  I  hardly  know  how  to  express  myself, 
but  I  am  rather  glad  that  you  first  spoke  of  this  matter 
to  me." 

A  light  dawned  on  me,  and  suddenly  brought  out  the 
significance  of  numerous  half-digested  observations  which  I 
had  previously  made. 

''  Ah  ! "  I  exclaimed,  ''  you  mean  you  don't  eat  tlie  flesh 
of  animals  any  more." 

"  Is  it  possible  you  have  not  guessed  that  ?  Had  you 
not  noticed  that  you  were  offered  no  such  food  ?  " 

"The  fact  is,"  I  replied,  "the  cooking  is  so  different  in 
ail  respects  from  that  of  my  day  that  I  have  given  up  all 
attempt  to  identify  anything.  But  I  have  certainly  missed 
no  flavor  to  wliich  I  have  been  accustomed,  though  I  have 
been  delighted  by  a  great  many  novel  ones." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  "  instead  of  the  one  or  two  rude 
processes  inherited  from  primitive  men  by  which  you  used 
to  prepare  food  and  elicit  its  qualities,  we  have  a  gi^eat  num- 
ber and  variety.  I  doubt  if  there  was  any  flavor  you  had 
which  we  do  not  reproduce,  besides  the  great  number  of 
new  ones  discovered  since  your  time." 

"  But  when  was  the  use  of  animals  for  food  discon- 
tinued ? " 

"  Soon  after  the  gi^eat  Revolution." 

"  What  caused  the  change  ?  Was  it  a  conviction  that 
health  would  be  favored  by  avoiding  flesh  ?  " 

"  It  does  not  seem  to  have  been  that  motive  which  chiefly 
led  to  the  change.  LTndoubtedly  the  abandonment  of  the 
custom  of  eating  animals,  by  which  we  inherited  all  their 
diseases,  has  had  something  to  do  with  the  great  physical 
improvement  of  the  race,  but  people  did  not  apparently 
give  up  eating  animals  mainly  for  health's  sake  any  more 
than  cannibals  in  more  ancient  times  abandoned  eating  their 
fellow-men  on  that  account.  It  was,  of  course,  a  very  long 
time  ago,  .and  there  Avas  perhaps  no  practice  of  the  former 


286  EQUALITY. 

order  of  which  the  people,  immediately  after  giving  it  up, 
seem  to  have  become  so  much  ashamed.  This  is  doubtless 
why  we  find  such  meager  information  in  the  histories  of  the 
period  as  to  the  circumstances  of  the  change.  There  appears, 
however,  to  be  no  doubt  that  the  abandonment  of  the  cus- 
tom was  chiefly  an  effect  of  the  great  wave  of  humane  feel- 
ing, the  passion  of  pity  and  compunction  for  all  suffering 
— in  a  word,  the  impulse  of  tender-heartedness — which  was 
really  the  great  moral  power  behind  the  Revolution,  As 
might  be  expected,  this  outburst  did  not  affect  merely  the 
relations  of  men  with  men,  but  likewise  their  relations  with 
the  whole  sentient  world.  The  sentiment  of  brotherhood, 
the  feeling  of  solidarity,  asserted  itself  not  merely  toward 
men  and  women,  but  likewise  toward  the  humbler  compan- 
ions of  our  life  on  earth  and  sharers  of  its  fortunes,  the 
animals.  The  new  and  vivid  light  thrown  on  the  rights  and 
duties  of  men  to  one  another  brought  also  into  view  and  rec- 
ognition the  rights  of  the  lower  orders  of  being.  A  senti- 
ment against  cruelty  to  animals  of  every  kind  had  long 
been  growing  in  civilized  lands,  and  formed  a  distinct  fea- 
ture of  the  general  softening  of  manners  which  led  up  to  the 
Revolution.  This  sentiment  now  became  an  enthusiasm. 
The  new  conception  of  our  relation  to  the  animals  appealed 
to  the  heart  and  captivated  the  imagination  of  mankind.  In- 
stead of  sacrificing  the  weaker  races  to  our  use  or  pleasure, 
with  no  thought  for  their  welfare,  it  began  to  be  seen  that 
we  should  rather,  as  elder  brothers  in  the  great  family  of 
Nature,  be,  so  far  as  possible,  guardians  and  helpers  to  the 
weaker  orders  whose  fate  is  in  our  hands  and  to  which 
we  are  as  gods.  Do  you  not  see,  Julian,  how  the  preva- 
lence of  this  new  view  might  soon  have  led  people  to  regard 
the  eating  of  their  fellow-animals  as  a  revolting  practice, 
almost  akin  to  cannibalism  ?  " 

"  That  is,  of  course,  very  easily  understood.  Indeed,  doc- 
tor, you  must  not  suppose  that  my  contemporaries  were 
wholly  without  feeling  on  this  subject.  Long  before  the 
Revolution  was  dreamed  of  there  were  a  great  many  persons 
of  my  acquaintance  who  owned  to  serious  qualms  over  flesh- 
eating,  and  perhaps  the  greater  part  of  refined  persons  were 
not  without  pangs  of  conscience  at  various  times  over  the 


SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  287 

practice.  The  trouble  was,  therq^eally  seemed  nothing  else 
to  do.  It  was  just  like  our  economic  system.  Humane  per- 
sons generally  admitted  that  it  was  very  bad  and  brutal,  and 
yet  very  few  could  distinctly  see  what  the  world  was  going 
to  replace  it  with.  You  people  seem  to  have  succeeded  in 
perfecting  a  cuisine  without  using  flesh,  and  I  admit  it  is 
every  way  more  satisfactory  than  ours  was,  but  you  can  not 
imagine  how  absolutely  impossible  the  idea  of  getting  on 
without  the  use  of  animal  food  looked  in  my  day,  when  as 
yet  nothing  definite  had  been  suggested  to  take  its  place 
which  offered  any  reasonable  amount  of  gratification  to  the 
palate,  even  if  it  provided  the  means  of  aliment." 

"  I  can  imagine  the  difficulty  to  some  extent.  It  was,  as 
you  say,  like  that  which  so  long  hindered  the  change  of 
economic  systems.  People  could  not  clearly  realize  what 
was  to  take  its  place.  While  one's  mouth  is  full  of  one 
flavor  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  another.  That  lack  of  con- 
structive imagination  on  the  part  of  the  mass  is  the  ob- 
stacle that  has  stood  in  the  Avay  of  removing  every  ancient 
evil,  and  made  necessary  a  wave  of  revolutionary  force  to 
do  the  work.  Such  a  w^ave  of  feeling  as  I  have  described 
was  needful  in  this  case  to  do  away  with  the  immemorial 
habit  of  flesh-eating.  As  soon  as  the  new  attitude  of  men's 
minds  took  away  their  taste  for  flesh,  and  there  was  a  de- 
mand that  had  to  be  satisfied  for  some  other  and  adequate 
sort  of  food,  it  seems  to  have  been  very  promptly  met." 

"  From  what  source  ? '' 

"  Of  course,"  replied  the  doctor,  "chiefly  from  the  vege- 
table world,  though  by  no  means  wholly.  There  had  never 
been  any  serious  attempt  before  to  ascertain  what  its  provi- 
sions for  food  actually  were,  still  less  what  might  be  made 
of  them  by  scientific  treatment.  Nor,  as  long  as  there  was 
no  objection  to  killing  some  animal  and  appropriating  with- 
out trouble  the  benefit  of  its  experiments,  was  there  likely  to 
be.  The  rich  lived  chiefly  on  flesh.  As  for  the  working 
masses,  which  had  always  drawn  their  vigor  mainly  from 
vegetables,  nobody  of  the  influential  classes  cared  to  make 
^their  lot  more  agreeable.  Now,  however,  all  Avith  one  con- 
sent set  about  inquiring  what  sort  of  a  table  Nature  might 
provide  for  men  who  had  forsworn  nmrder. 


288  EQUALITY. 

"Just  as  the  crude  an(J^  simple  method  of  slavery,  first 
chattel  slavery  and  afterward  wage  slaverj^  had,  so  long  as 
it  prevailed,  prevented  men  from  seeking  to  replace  its  crude 
convenience  by  a  scientific  industrial  system,  so  in  like  man- 
ner the  coarse  convenience  of  flesh  for  food  had  hitherto 
prevented  men  from  making  a  serious  perquisition  of  Na- 
ture's edible  resources.  The  delay  in  this  respect  is  further 
accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  the  prei)aration  of  food,  on 
account  of  the  manner  of  its  conduct  as  an  industry,  had 
been  the  least  progressive  of  all  the  arts  of  life." 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  I  said.  "  The  least  progressive  of  arts  ? 
Why  so  ? " 

"  Because  it  had  always  been  carried  on  as  an  isolated 
household  industry,  and  as  such  chiefly  left  to  servants  or 
women,  who  in  former  times  were  the  most  conservative  and 
habit-bound  class  in  the  communities.  The  rules  of  the  art 
of  cookery  had  been  handed  down  little  changed  in  essen- 
tials since  the  wife  of  the  Arj^an  cowherd  di-essed  her  hus- 
band's food  for  him. 

"  Now,  it  must  remain  very  doubtful  how  iminediately 
successful  the  revolt  against  animal  food  would  have  proved 
if  the  average  family  cook,  w^hether  wife  or  hireling,  had 
been  left  each  for  herself  in  her  private  kitchen  to  grapple 
with  the  problem  of  providing  for  the  table  a  satisfactory 
substitute  for  flesh.  But,  thanks  to  the  many-sided  charac- 
ter of  the  great  Revolution,  the  juncture  of  time  at  which 
the  growth  of  humane  feeling  created  a  revolt  against  ani- 
mal food  coincided  with  the  complete  breakdown  of  domes- 
tic service  and  the  demand  of  women  for  a  wider  life,  facts 
which  compelled  the  placing  of  the  business  of  providing 
and  preparing  food  on  a  co-operative  basis,  and  the  making 
of  it  a  branch  of  the  public  service.  So  it  was  that  as  soon 
as  men,  losing  appetite  for  their  fellow-creatures,  began  to 
ask  earnestly  what  else  could  be  eaten,  there  was  already 
being  organized  a  great  governmental  department  command- 
ing all  the  scientific  talent  of  the  nation,  and  backed  by  the 
resources  of  the  country,  for  the  purpose  of  solving  the  ques- 
tion. And  it  is  easy  to  believe  that  none  of  the  new  depart- 
ments was  stimulated  in  its  efforts  by  a  keener  public  inter- 
est than  this  which  had  in  charge  the  preparation  of  the 


SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  2S9 

new  national  bill  of  fare.  These  were  the  conditions  for 
whieii  alimentation  had  waited  from  the  beginnings  of  the 
race  to  become  a  science. 

''  In  the  first  place,  the  food  materials  and  methods  of 
preparing  them  actually  extant,  and  used  in  the  different 
nations,  were,  for  the  first  time  in  history,  collected  and  col- 
lated. In  presence  of  the  cosmopolitan  variety  and  extent 
of  the  international  menu  thus  presented,  every  national 
cuisine  was  convicted  of  having  until  then  run  in  a  rut.  It 
was  apparent  that  in  nothing  had  the  nations  been  more 
provincial,  more  stupidly  prejudiced  against  learning  from 
one  another,  than  in  matters  of  food  and  cooking.  It  was 
discovered,  as  observing  travelers  had  always  been  aware, 
that  every  nation  and  country,  often  every  province,  had 
half  a  dozen  gastronomic  secrets  that  had  never  crossed  the 
border,  or  at  best  on  very  brief  excursions. 

"  It  is  well  enough  to  mention,  in  passing,  that  the  colla- 
tion of  this  international  bill  of  fare  was  only  one  illustra- 
tion of  the  innumerable  ways  in  which  the  nations,  as  soon 
as  the  new  order  put  an  end  to  the  old  prejudices,  began 
right  and  left  to  borrow  and  adopt  the  best  of  one  another's 
ideas  and  institutions,  to  the  great  general  enrichment. 

''  But  the  organization  of  a  scientific  system  of  alimenta- 
tion did  not  cease  with  utilizing  the  materials  and  methods 
already  existing.  The  botanist  and  the  chemist  next  set 
about  finding  new  food  materials  and  new  methods  of  pre- 
paring them.  At  once  it  was  discovered  that  of  the  natu- 
ral products  capable  of  being  used  as  food  by  man,  but  a 
petty  proportion  had  ever  been  utilized  ;  only  those,  and  a 
small  part  even  of  that  class,  which  readily  lent  themselves 
to  the  single  primitive  process  whereby  the  race  hitherto  had 
attempted  to  prepare  food— namely,  the  application  of  dry 
or  wet  heat.  To  this,  manifold  other  processes  suggested 
by  chemistry  were  now  added,  with  effects  that  our  ances- 
tors found  as  delightful  as  novel.  It  had  hitherto  been  with 
the  science  of  cooking  as  with  metallurgy  when  simple  fire 
remained  its  only  method. 

"  It  is  written  that  the  children  of  Israel,  when  prac- 
ticing an  enforced  vegetarian  diet  in  the  wilderness, 
yearned  after  the  flesh-pots  of  Egypt,  and  probably  with 


290     *  EQUALITY. 

good  reason.  The  experience  of  our  ancestors  appears  to 
have  been  in  this  respect  quite  different.  It  would  seem 
that  the  sentiments  with  w^hich,  after  a  very  short  period 
had  elapsed,  they  looked  back  upon  the  flesh-pots  they  had 
left  beliind  were  charged  with  a  feeling  quite  the  reverse  of 
regret.  There  is  an  am^::sing  cartoon  of  the  period,  which 
suggests  how  brief  a  time  it  took  for  them  to  discover  what 
a  good  thing  they  had  done  for  themselves  in  resolving  to 
spare  the  animals.  The  cartoon,  as  I  remember  it,  is  in  two 
parts.  The  first  shows  Humanity,  typified  by  a  feminine 
figure  regarding  a  group  of  animals  consisting  of  the  ox, 
the  sheep,  and  the  hog.  Her  face  ex^Dresses  the  deepest  com- 
punction, while  she  tearfully  exclaims,  '  Poor  things  !  How 
could  we  ever  bring  ourselves  to  eat  you  ? '  The  second  part 
reproduces  the  same  group,  with  the  heading  '  Five  Years 
After.'  But  here  the  countenance  of  Humanity  as  she  re- 
gards the  animals  expresses  not  contrition  or  self-reproach, 
but  disgust  and  loathing,  while  she  exclaims  in  nearly 
identical  terms,  but  very  dilierent  emphasis,  'How  could 
we,  indeed  ? '" 

WHAT  BECAME  OF  THE   GREAT   CITIES. 

Continuing  to  move  westward  toward  the  interior,  we 
had  now  gradually  left  behind  the  more  thickly  settled  por- 
tions of  the  city,  if  indeed  any  portion  of  these  modern 
cities,  in  which  every  home  stands  in  its  own  inclosure, 
can  be  called  thickly  settled.  The  groves  and  meadows  and 
larger  woods  had  become  numerous,  and  villages  occurred 
at  frequent  intervals.     We  w^ere  out  in  the  country. 

''  Doctor,'-  said  I,  "  it  has  so  happened,  you  will  remem- 
ber, that  what  I  have  seen  of  twentieth-century  life  has 
been  mainly  its  city  side.  If  country  life  has  changed  since 
my  day  as  much  as  city  life,  it  will  be  very  interesting  to 
make  its  acquaintance  again.     Tell  me  something  about  it." 

"  There  are  few  respects,  I  suppose,"  replied  the  doctor, 
"in  w^hich  the  effect  of  the  nationalization  of  production 
and  distribution  on  the  basis  of  economic  equality  has 
worked  a  greater  transformation  than  in  the  relations  of  city 
and  country,  and  it  is  odd  we  should  not  have  chanced  to 
speak  of  this  before  now." 


SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  291 

"  When  I  was  last  in  the  world  of  living-  people,"  I  said, 
"  the  city  was  fast  devouring  the  country.  Has  that  process 
gone  on,  or  has  it  possibly  been  reversed  ? '' 

"Decidedly  the  latter,"  replied  the  doctor,  "as  indeed 
you  will  at  once  see  must  have  been  the  case  when  you 
consider  that  the  enormous  growth  of  the  great  cities  of  the 
l^ast  was  entirely  an  economic  consequence  of  the  system  of 
private  capitalism,  with  its  necessarj"  dependence  upon  indi- 
vidual initiative,  and  tlie  competitive  system." 

"  That  is  a  new  idea  to  me,"  I  said. 

"  I  think  you  will  find  it  a  very  obvious  one  upon  reflec- 
tion," replied  the  doctor.  "'  Under  private  capitalism,  you 
see,  there  was  no  public  or  governmental  system  for  organ- 
izing productive  effort  and  distributing  its  results.  There 
was  no  general  and  unfailing  machinery  for  bringing  pro- 
ducers and  consumers  together.  Everybody  had  to  seek  his 
own  occupation  and  maintenance  on  his  OAvn  account,  and 
success  depended  on  his  finding  an  opportunity  to  exchange 
his  labor  or  possessions  for  the  possessions  or  labor  of  others. 
For  this  purpose  the  best  place,  of  course,  was  where  there 
were  many  people  who  likewise  wanted  to  buy  or  sell  their 
labor  or  goods.  Consequently,  when,  owing  either  to  acci- 
dent or  calculation,  a  mass  of  people  were  drawn  together, 
others  flocked  to  them,  for  every  such  aggregation  made  a 
market  place  where,  owing  simply  to  the  number  of  persons 
desiring  to  buy  and  sell,  better  opportunities  for  exchange 
were  to  be  found  than  v/here  fewer  people  were,  and  the 
greater  the  number  of  people  the  larger  and  better  the  facili- 
ties for  exchange.  The  city  having  thus  taken  a  start,  the 
larger  it  became,  the  faster  it  was  likely  to  grow  by  the  same 
logic  that  accounted  for  its  first  rise.  The  laborer  went 
there  to  find  the  largest  and  steadiest  market  for  his  muscle, 
and  the  capitalist — who,  being  a  conductor  of  production,  de- 
sired the  largest  and  steadiest  labor  market — went  there  also. 
The  capitalist  trader  went  there  to  find  the  greatest  group  of 
consumers  of  his  goods  within  least  space. 

"  Although  at  first  the  cities  rose  and  grew,  mainly  be- 
cause of  the  facilities  for  exchange  among  their  own  citi- 
zens, yet  presently  the  result  of  the  superior  organization 
of  exchange  facilities  made  them  centers  of  exchange  for 


292  EQUALITY. 

the  produce  of  the  surrounding  country.  In  this  way  those 
who  lived  in  the  cities  had  not  only  great  opportunities  to 
grow  rich  by  supplying  tlie  needs  of  the  dense  resident 
population,  but  were  able  also  to  levy  a  tribute  upon  the 
products  of  the  people  in  the  country  round  about  by  com- 
pelling those  i)roducts  to  pass  through  their  hands  on  the 
way  to  the  consumers,  even  though  the  consumers,  like  the 
producers,  lived  in  the  country,  and  might  be  next  door 
neighbors. 

"  In  due  course,"  pursued  the  doctor,  "  this  concentration 
of  material  wealth  in  the  cities  led  to  a  concentration  there 
of  all  the  superior,  the  refined,  the  pleasant,  and  the  lux- 
urious ministrations  of  life.  Not  only  did  the  manual 
laborers  flock  to  the  cities  as  the  market  where  they  could 
best  exchange  their  labor  for  the  money  of  the  capitalists, 
but  the  professional  and  learned  class  resorted  thither  for 
the  same  purpose.  The  lawyers,  the  pedagogues,  the  doc- 
tors, the  rhetoricians,  and  men  of  special  skill  in  every 
branch,  went  there  as  the  best  place  to  find  the  richest  and 
most  numerous  employers  of  their  talents,  and  to  make  their, 
careers. 

"  And  in  like  manner  all  who  had  pleasure  to  sell — the 
artists,  the  players,  the  singers,  yes,  and  the  courtesans  also — 
flocked  to  the  cities  for  the  same  reasons.  And  those  w^ho 
desired  X3leasure  and  had  wealth  to  buy  it,  those  w^ho  wished 
to  enjoy  life,  either  as  to  its  coarse  or  refined  gratifications, 
followed  the  pleasure-givers.  And,  finally,  the  thieves  and 
robbers,  and  those  pre-eminent  in  the  wicked  arts  of  living 
on  their  fellow-men,  followed  the  throng  to  the  cities,  as 
offering  them  also  the  best  field  for  their  talents.  And  so 
the  cities  became  great  whirlpools,  which  drew  to  themselves 
all  that  was  richest  and  best,  and  also  everything  that  was 
vilest,  in  the  whole  land. 

"  Such,  Julian,  was  the  law  of  the  genesis  and  growth  of 
the  cities,  and  it  was  by  necessary  consequence  the  law  of 
the  shrinkage,  decay,  and  death  of  the  country  and  country 
life.  It  was  only  necessary  that  the  era  of  private  capitalism 
in  America  should  last  long  enough  for  the  rural  districts  to 
have  been  reduced  to  what  they  were  in  the  days  of  the 
Roman  Empire,  and  of  every  empire  which  achieved  full 


SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  293 

development — namely,  regions  whence  all  who  could  escape 
had  gone  to  seek  their  fortune  in  the  cities,  leaving  only  a 
population  of  serfs  and  overseers, 

'*  To  do  your  contemporaries  justice,  they  seemed  them- 
selves to  realize  that  the  swallowing  up  of  the  country  by 
the  city  boded  no  good  to  civilization,  and  would  apparently 
have  been  glad  to  find  a  cure  for  it,  but  they  failed  entirely 
to  observe  that,  as  it  was  a  necessary  effect  of  private  capi- 
talism, it  could  only  be  remedied  by  abolishing  that." 

"Just  how,"  said  I,  "did  the  abolition  of  private  capital- 
ism and  the  substitution  of  a  nationalized  economic  system 
operate  to  stop  the  growth  of  the  cities  ? " 

"  By  abolishing  the  need  of  markets  for  the  exchange  of 
labor  and  commodities,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  The  facilities 
of  exchange  organized  in  the  cities  under  the  private  capi- 
talists were  rendered  wholly  superfluous  and  impertinent  by 
the  national  organization  of  production  and  distribution. 
The  produce  of  the  country  was  no  longer  handled  by  or  dis- 
tributed through  the  cities,  excei^t  so  far  as  produced  or  con- 
sumed there.  The  quality  of  goods  furnished  in  all  locali- 
ties, and  the  measure  of  industrial  service  required  of  all,  was 
the  same.  Economic  equality  having  done  away  with  rich 
and  poor,  the  city  ceased  to  be  a  place  where  greater  luxury 
could  be  enjoyed  or  displayed  than  the  country.  The  pro- 
vision of  employment  and  of  maintenance  on  equal  terms 
to  all  took  away  the  advantages  of  locality  as  helps  to  live- 
lihood. In  a  word,  there  was  no  longer  any  motive  to  lead 
a  person  to  prefer  city  to  country  life,  who  did  not  like 
crowds  for  the  sake  of  being  crowded.  Under  these  circum- 
stances you  will  not  find  it  strange  that  the  growth  of  the 
cities  ceased,  and  their  depopulation  began  from  the  mo- 
ment the  effects  of  the  Revolution  became  apparent." 

"  But  you  have  cities  yet !  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  Certainly — that  is,  we  have  localities  where  population 
still  remains  denser  than  in  other  places.  None  of  the 
great  cities  of  your  day  have  become  extinct,  but  their  popu- 
lations are  but  small  fractions  of  what  they  were." 

"  But  Boston  is  certainly  a  far  finer-looking  city  than  in 
my  day." 

"All  the  modern  cities  are  far  finer  and  fairer  in  every 
20 


294:  EQUALITY. 

way  than  their  predecessors  and  infinitely  fitter  for  human 
habitation,  hut  in  order  to  make  them  so  it  was  necessary  to 
get  rid  of  their  surplus  population.  There  are  in  Boston 
to-day  perhaps  a  quarter  as  many  people  as  lived  in  the 
same  limits  in  the  Boston  of  your  day,  and  that  is  simply 
because  there  were  four  times  as  many  people  w^ithin  those 
limits  as  could  be  housed  and  furnished  wdth  environments 
consistent  with  the  modern  idea  of  healthful  and  agree- 
able living.  New  York,  having  been  far  w^orse  crowded 
than  Boston,  has  lost  a  still  larger  proportion  of  its  former 
population.  Were  you  to  visit  Manhattan  Island  I  fancy 
your  first  impression  would  be  that  the  Central  Park  of 
your  day  had  been  extended  all  the  way  from  the  Battery 
to  Harlem  River,  though  in  fact  the  place  is  rather  thickly 
built  up  according  to  modern  notions,  some  two  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  people  living  there  among  the  groves' and 
fountains."' 

"And  you  say  this  amazing  dej)opulation  took  place  at 
once  after  the  Revolution  ? "' 

''  It  began  then.  The  only  way  in  w^hich  the  vast  popu- 
lations of  the  old  cities  could  be  crowded  into  spaces  so 
small  was  by  packing  them  like  sardines  in  tenement 
houses.  As  soon  as  it  was  settled  that  everybody  must  be 
provided  with  really  and  equally  good  habitations,  it  fol- 
lowed that  the  cities  must  lose  the  greater  part  of  their 
population.  These  had  to  be  provided  with  dwellings  in 
the  country.  Of  course,  so  vast  a  w^ork  could  not  be  ac- 
complished instantly,  but  it  proceeded  w4th  all  possible 
^peed.  In  addition  to  the  exodus  of  people  from  the  cities 
because  there  was  no  room  for  them  to  live  decently,  there 
was  also  a  great  outflow^  of  others  who,  now  there  had 
ceased  to  be  any  economic  advantages  in  city  life,  were  at- 
tracted by  the  natural  charms  of  the  country ;  so  that  you 
may^  easily  see  that  it  was  one  of  the  great  tasks  of  the 
first  decade  after  the  Revolution  to  provide  homes  else- 
where for  those  who  desired  to  leave  the  cities.  Tlie  tend- 
ency country  ward  continued  until  the  cities  having  been 
emptied  of  their  excess  of  people,  it  was  possible  to  make 
radical  changes  in  their  arrangements.  A  large  proportion 
of  the  old  buildings  and  all  the  unsightlv.  loftv.  and  inai'^ 


SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  295 

tistic  ones  were  cleared  away  ami  replaced  with  structures 
of  the  low,  broad,  roomy  style  adapted  to  the  new  ways  of 
living.  Parks,  gardens,  and  roomy  spaces  were  multiplied 
on  every  hand  and  the  system  of  transit  so  modified  as  to 
get  rid  of  the  noise  and  dust,  and  finally,  in  a  word,  the  city 
of  your  day  was  changed  into  the  modern  city.  Having 
thus  been  made  as  pleasant  places  to  live  in  as  was  the 
country  itself,  the  outflow  of  po})ulation  from  the  cities 
ceased  and  an  equilibrium  became  established."' 

''It  strikes  me,"  I  observed,  "that  under  any  circum- 
stances cities  must  still,  on  accouiit  of  their  greater  concen- 
tration of  people,  have  certain  better  public  services  than 
small  villages,  for  naturally  such  conveniences  are  least  ex- 
pensive where  a  dense  population  is  to  be  sui^plied." 

"  As  to  that,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  if  a  person  desires  to 
live  in  some  remote  spot  far  away  from  neighbors  he  will 
have  to  put  up  with  some  inconveniences.  He  will  have  to 
bring  his  supplies  from  the  nearest  public  store  and  dispense 
with  various  public  services  enjoyed  by  those  who  live 
jiearer  together;  but  in  order  to  be  really  out  of  reach  of 
these  services  he  must  go  a  good  way  off.  You  must  re- 
member that  nowadays  the  problems  of  communication  and 
transportation  both  by  public  and  private  means  have  been 
so  entirely  solved  that  conditions  of  space  which  were  pro- 
jnbitive  in  your  day  are  unimportant  now.  Villages  five 
find  ten  miles  apart  are  as  near  together  for  purposes  of  so- 
cial intercourse  and  economic  administration  as  the  adjoin- 
ing wards  of  your  cities.  Either  on  their  own  account  or 
by  group  combinations  with  other  communities  dwellers  in 
the  smallest  villages  enjoy  installations  of  all  sorts  of  pub- 
lic services  as  complete  as  exist  in  the  cities.  All  have  pub- 
lic stores  and  kitchens  with  telephone  and  delivery  systems, 
public  baths,  libraries,  and  institutions  of  the  highest  educa- 
tion. As  to  the  quality  of  the  services  and  commodities 
provided,  they  are  of  absolutely  equal  excellence  wherever 
furnished.  Finally,  by  telephone  and  electroscope  the 
dwellers  in  any  part  of  the  country,  however  deeply  se- 
ckided  among  the  forests  or  the  mountains,  may  enjoy  the 
theater,  the  concert,  and  the  orator  quite  as  advantageously 
as  the  residents  of  the  largest  cities." 


296  EQUALITY. 


THE   REFORESTING. 

Still  we  swept  on  mile  after  mile,  league  after  league, 
toward  the  interior,  and  still  the  surface  below  presented 
tiie  same  parklike  aspect  that  had  marked  the  immediate 
environs  of  the  city.  Every  natural  feature  appeared  to 
have  been  idealized  and  all  its  latent  meaning  brought  out 
by  the  loving  skill  of  some  consummate  landscape  artist, 
the  works  of  man  blending  with  the  face  of  Nature  in  per- 
fect harmony.  Such  arrangements  of  scenery  had  not  been 
uncommon  in  my  day,  when  great  cities  prepared  costly 
pleasure  grounds,  but  I  had  never  imagined  anything  on  a 
scale  like  this. 

"  How  far  does  this  park  extend  ? "  I  demanded  at  last. 
*'  There  seems  no  end  to  it." 

''  It  extends  to  the  Pacific  Ocean,"   said  the  doctor. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  the  whole  United  States  is  laid  out  in 
this  way  ? " 

"Not  precisely  in  this  way  by  any  means,  but  in  a 
hundred  different  ways  according  to  the  natural  sugges- 
tions of  the  face  of  the  country  and  the  most  effective 
way  of  co-operating  with  them.  In  this  region,  for  in- 
stance, where  there  are  few  bold  natural  features,  the  best 
effect  to  be  obtained  was  that  of  a  smiling,  peaceful  land- 
scape with  as  much  diversification  in  detail  as  possible. 
In  the  mountainous  regions,  on  the  contrary,  where  Na- 
ture has  furnished  effects  which  man's  art  could  not 
strengthen,  the  method  has  been  to  leave  everything  ab- 
solutely as  Nature  left  it,  only  providing  the  utmost  fa- 
cihties  for  travel  and  observation.  When  you  visit  the 
White  Mountains  or  the  Berkshire  Hills  you  will  find,  I 
fancy,  their  slopes  shaggier,  the  torrents  wilder,  the  for- 
ests loftier  and  more  gloomy  than  they  were  a  hundred 
years  ago.  The  only  evidences  of  man's  handiwork  to 
be  found  there  are  the  roadways  which  traverse  every 
gorge  and  top  every  summit,  carrying  the  traveler  with- 
in reach  of  all  the  wild,  rugged,  or  beautiful  bits  of  Na- 
ture." 

"As  far  as  forests  go,  it  will  not  be  necessary  for  me  to 
visit  the  mountains  in  order  to  perceive  that  the  trees  are 


SEVEKAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  297 

not  only  a  great  deal  loftier  as  a  rule,  but  that  there  are 
vastly  more  of  them  than  formerly/' 

"Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  "it  would  be  odd  if  you  did  not 
notice  that  difference  in  the  landscape.  There  are  said  to 
be  five  or  ten  trees  nowadays  where  there  was  one  in  your 
day,  and  a  good  part  of  those  you  see  down  there  are  from 
seventy-five  to  a  hundred  years  old,  dating  from  the  refor- 
esting." 

"  What  was  the  reforesting  ? "  I  asked. 

"  It  was  tlie  restoration  of  the  forests  after  the  Revolu- 
tion. Under  private  capitalism  the  greed  or  need  of  individu- 
als had  led  to  so  general  a  wasting  of  the  woods  that  the 
streams  were  greatly  reduced  and  the  land  was  constantly 
plagued  with  droughts.  It  was  found  after  the  Revolution 
that  one  of  the  things  most  urgent  to  be  done  was  to  refor- 
est the  country.  Of  course,  it  has  taken  a  long  time  for  the 
new  plantings  to  come  to  maturity,  but  I  believe  it  is  now 
some  twenty-five  years  since  the  forest  plan  reached  its  full 
development  and  the  last  vestiges  of  the  former  ravages  dis- 
appeared." 

"Do  you  know,"  I  said  presently,  "that  one  feature 
which  is  missing  from  the  landscape  impresses  me  quite  as 
much  as  any  that  it  presents  ?  " 

"  What  is  it  that  is  missing  ? " 

"  The  hayfield." 

"  Ah !  yes,  no  wonder  you  miss  it,"  said  the  doctor.  "  I 
understand  that  in  your  day  hay  was  the  main  crop  of  New 
England  ? " 

"Altogether  so,"  I  replied,  "  and  now  I  suppose  you  have 
no  use  for  hay  at  all.  Dear  me,  in  what  a  multitude  of  im- 
portant ways  the  passing  of  the  animals  out  of  use  both 
for  food  and  work  must  have  affected  human  occupations 
and  interests  I " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  the  doctor,  "  and  always  to  the  notable 
improvement  of  the  social  condition,  though  it  may  sound 
ungi'ateful  to  say  so.  Take  the  case  of  the  horse,  for  exam- 
ple. With  the  passing  of  that  long-suff'ering  servant  of  man 
to  his  well  earned  reward,  smooth,  permanent,  and  clean 
roadways  first  became  possible ;  dust,  dirt,  danger,  and  dis- 
comfort ceased  to  be  necessary  incidents  of  travel. 


298  EQUALITY. 

"  Thanks  to  the  passing  of  the  horse,  it  was  possible  to 
reduce  the  breadth  of  roadways  by  half  or  a  third,  to  con- 
struct them  of  smooth  concrete  from  grass  to  gi^ass,  leaving 
no  soil  to  be  disturbed  by  wind  or  water,  and  such  ways 
once  built,  last  like  Roman  roads,  and  can  never  be  over- 
gi'own  by  vegetation.  These  paths,  jjenetrating  every  nook 
and  corner  of  the  land,  have,  together  with  the  electric  mo- 
tors, made  travel  such  a  luxury  that  as  a  rule  we  make 
all  short  journeys,  and  when  time  does  not  press  even  very 
long  ones,  by  private  conveyance.  Had  land  travel  re- 
mained in  the  condition  it  was  in  when  it  depended  on 
the  horse,  the  invention  of  the  air-car  would  have  strongly 
tempted  humanity  to  treat  the  earth  as  the  birds  do — merely 
as  a  place  to  alight  on  between  flights.  As  it  is,  we  consider 
the  question  an  even  one  whether  it  is  pleasanter  to  swim 
through  the  air  or  to  glide  over  the  groimd,  the  motion  being 
well-nigh  as  sv/ift,  noiseless,  and  easy  in  one  case  as  in  the 
other." 

"  Even  before  1887,"  I  said,  "  the  bicycle  was  coming 
into  such  favor  and  the  possibilities  of  electricity  were  be- 
ginning so  to  loom  up  that  prophetic  people  began  to  talk 
about  the  day  of  the  horse  as  almost  over.  But  it  was  be- 
lieved that,  although  dispensed  with  for  road  purposes,  he 
must  always  remain  a  necessity  for  the  multifarious  pur- 
poses of  farm  work,  and  so  I  should  have  supposed.  How 
is  it  about  that  ?  " 

TWENTIETH-CENTURY  FARMING. 

"Wait  a  moment,"  replied  the  doctor;  "when  we 
have  descended  a  little  I  will  give  you  a  practical  an- 
swer." 

After  we  had  dropped  from  an  altitude  of  perhaps  a 
thousand  feet  to  a  couple  of  hundred,  the  doctor  said : 

"Look  down  there  to  the  right." 

I  did  so,  and  saw  a  large  field  from  which  the  crops  had 
been  cut.  Over  its  surface  was  moving  a  row  of  great  ma- 
chines, behind  which  the  earth  surged  up  in  brown  and 
rigid  billows.  On  each  machine  stood  or  sat  in  easy  atti- 
tude a  young  man  or  woman  with  quite  the  air  of  persons 
on  a  pleasure  excursion. 


SEVERAL  IMPOllTxVNT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  299 

"  Evidently/'  I  said,  "  these  are  plows,  but  what  drives 
them  ? " 

"  They  are  electric  plows,"  replied  the  doctor.  ''  Do  you 
see  that  snakelike  cord  trailing  away  over  the  broken 
ground  behind  each  machine  ?  That  is  the  cable  by  whicli 
the  force  is  supplied.  Observe  those  posts  at  regular  in- 
tervals about  tlie  field.  It  is  only  necessary  to  attach  one 
of  those  cables  to  a  post  to  have  a  power  which,  connected 
with  any  sort  of  agricultural  machine,  furnishes  energy 
graduated  from  a  man's  strength  to  that  of  a  hundred  horses, 
and  requiring  for  its  guidance  no  other  force  than  the  fin- 
gers of  a  child  can  supply." 

And  not  only  this,  but  it  was  further  explained  to  me 
that  by  this  system  of  flexible  cables  of  all  sizes  the  electric 
power  was  applied  not  only  to  all  the  heavy  tasks  formerly 
done  by  animals,  but  also  to  the  hand  instruments — the 
spade,  the  shovel,  and  the  fork — which  the  farmer  in  my 
time  must  bend  his  own  back  to,  however  well  supplied  he 
might  be  with  horse  power.  There  was,  indeed,  no  tool, 
however  small,  the  doctor  explained,  whether  used  in  agri- 
culture or  any  other  art,  to  which  this  motor  was  not  appli- 
cable, leaving  to  the  worker  only  the  adjustment  and  guid- 
ing of  the  instrument. 

"  With  one  of  our  shovels,"  said  the  doctor,  "  an  intelli- 
gent boy  can  excavate  a  trench  or  dig  a  mile  of  potatoes 
quicker  than  a  gang  of  men  in  your  day,  and  with  no 
more  effort  than  he  would  use  in  wheeling  a  barrow." 

I  had  been  told  several  times  that  at  the  present  day 
farm  work  was  considered  quite  as  desirable  as  any  other 
occupation,  but,  with  my  impressions  as  to  the  peculiar  ardu- 
ousness  of  the  earth  worker's  task,  I  had  not  been  able  to 
realize  how  this  could  really  be  so.  It  began  to  seem  pos- 
sible. 

The  doctor  suggested  that  x)erhaps  I  would  like  to  land 
and  inspect  some  of  the  arrangements  of  a  modern  farm, 
and  I  gladly  assented.  But  first  he  took  advantage  of  our 
elevated  position  to  point  out  the  network  of  railways  by 
which  all  the  farm  transportation  was  done  and  whereby 
the  cro]3s  when  gathered  could,  if  desirable,  be  shipped 
directly,  without  further  handling,  to  any  point  in  the  coun- 


300  EQUALITY. 

try.  Having  alighted  from  our  car,  we  crossed  the  field  to- 
ward the  nearest  of  the  great  plows,  the  rider  of  which  was  a 
dark-haired  young  woman  daintily  costumed,  such  a  figure 
certainly  as  no  nineteenth-century  farm  field  ever  saw.  As 
she  sat  gracefully  upon  the  back  of  the  shining  metal  mon- 
ster which,  as  it  advanced,  tore  up  the  earth  with  terrible 
horns,  I  could  but  be  reminded  of  Europa  on  her  bull.  If 
her  prototype  was  as  charming  as  this  young  woman,  Jupiter 
certainly  was  excusable  for  running  away  with  her. 

As  we  approached,  she  stopped  the  plow  and  pleasantly 
returned  our  greeting.  It  was  evident  that  she  recognized 
me  at  the  first  glance,  as,  thanks  doubtless  to  the  diffusion 
of  my  portrait,  everybody  seemed  to  do.  The  interest  with 
which  she  regarded  me  would  have  been  more  flattering 
had  I  not  been  aware  that  I  owed  it  entirely  to  my  char- 
acter as  a  freak  of  Nature  and  not  at  all  to  my  personality. 

When  I  asked  her  what  sort  of  a  crop  they  were  expect- 
ing to  plant  at  this  season,  she  replied  that  this  was  merely 
one  of  the  many  annual  plowings  given  to  all  soil  to  keep 
it  in  condition. 

"We  use,  of  course,  abundant  fertilizers,"  she  said,  "  but 
consider  the  soil  its  own  best  fertilizer  if  kept  moving." 

"  Doubtless,"  said  I,  "  labor  is  the  best  fertilizer  of  the 
soil.  So  old  an  authority  as  ^sop  taught  us  that  in  his 
fable  of  '  The  Buried  Treasure,'  but  it  was  a  terribly  expen- 
sive sort  of  fertilizer  in  my  day  when  it  had  to  come  out  of 
the  muscles  of  men  and  beasts.  One  plowing  a  year  was 
all  our  farmers  could  manage,  and  that  nearly  broke  their 
backs." 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "  I  have  read  of  those  poor  men.  Now 
you  see  it  is  different.  So  long  as  the  tides  rise  and  fall 
twice  a  day,  let  alone  the  winds  and  waterfalls,  there  is  no 
reason  why  Ave  should  not  plow  every  day  if  it  were  de- 
sirable. I  believe  it  is  estimated  that  about  ten  times  the 
amount  of  power  is  nowadays  given  to  the  working  of 
every  acre  of  land  that  it  was  possible  to  apply  in  former 
times." 

We  silent  some  time  inspecting  the  farm.  The  doctor 
explained  the  drainage  and  pumping  systems  by  which  both 
excess  and  deficiency  of  rain  are  guarded  against,  and  gave 


SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  301 

me  opportunity  to  examine  in  detail  some  of  the  wonderful 
tools  he  had  described,  which  make  practically  no  requisi- 
tion on  the  muscle  of  the  worker,  only  needing  a  mind  be- 
hind them. 

Connected  with  the  farm  was  one  of  the  systems  of 
great  greenhouse  establishments  upon  which  the  people  de- 
pend for  fresh  vegetables  in  the  winter,  and  this,  too,  we 
visited.  The  wonders  of  intensive  culture  which  I  saw  in 
that  great  structure  would  of  course  astonish  none  of  my 
readers,  but  to  me  the  revelation  of  what  could  be  done 
with  plants  when  all  the  conditions  of  light,  heat,  moisture, 
and  soil  ingredients  were  absolutely  to  be  commanded,  was 
a  never-to-be-forgotten  experience.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I 
had  stolen  into  the  very  laboratory  of  the  Creator,  and  found 
him  at  the  task  of  fashioning  with  invisible  hands  the  dust 
of  the  earth  and  the  viewless  air  into  forms  of  life,  I  had 
never  seen  plants  actually  grow  before  and  had  deemed  the 
Indian  juggler's  trick  an  imposture.  But  here  I  saw  them 
lifting  their  heads,  putting  forth  their  buds,  and  opening 
their  flowers  by  movements  which  the  eye  could  follow.  I 
confess  that  I  fairly  listened  to  hear  them  Avhisper. 

"  In  my  day,  greenhouse  culture  of  vegetables  out  of  sea- 
son had  been  carried  on  only  to  an  extent  to  meet  the  de- 
mands of  a  small  class  of  very  rich.  The  idea  of  providing 
such  supplies  at  moderate  prices  for  the  entire  community, 
according  to  the  modern  i^ractice,  was  of  course  quite  un- 
dreamed of." 

When  we  left  the  greenhouse  the  afternoon  had  worn 
away  and  the  sun  was  setting.  Rising  swiftly  to  a  height 
where  its  rays  still  warmed  us,  we  set  out  homeward. 

Strongest  of  all  the  impressions  of  that  to  me  so  wonder- 
ful afternoon  there  lingered  most  firmly  fixed  in  my  mind 
the  latest— namely,  the  object  lesson  I  had  received  of  the 
transformation  in  the  conditions  of  agriculture,  the  great 
staple  human  occupation  from  the  beginning,  and  the  basis 
of  every  industrial  system.     Presently  I  said  : 

"  Since  you  have  so  successfully  done  away  with  the 
first  of  the  two  main  drawbacks  of  the  agricultural  occupa- 
tion as  known  in  my  day — namely,  its  excessive  laborious- 
ness — you  have  no  doubt  also  known  how  to  eliminate  the 


302  *    EQUALITY. 

other,  which  was  the  isolation,  the  loneliness,  the  lack  of 
social  intercourse  and  opportunity  of  social  culture  which 
w^ere  incident  to  the  farmer's  life.'" 

"Nobody  would  certainly  do  farm  work,"  replied  the 
doctor,  "  if  it  had  continued  to  be  either  more  lonesome  or 
more  laborious  than  other  sorts  of  work.  As  regards  the 
social  surroundings  of  the  agriculturist,  he  is  in  no  way 
differently  situated  from  the  artisan  or  any  other  cJass  of 
workers.  He,  like  the  others,  lives  where  he  pleases,  and 
is  carried  to  and  fro  just  as  they  are  between  the  place 
of  his  residence  and  occupation  by  the  lines  of  swift  tran- 
sit with  which  the  country  is  threaded.  Work  on  a  farm 
no  longer  implies  life  on  a  farm,  unless  for  those  who 
like  it." 

"  One  of  the  conditions  of  the  farmer's  life,  owing  to  the 
variations  of  the  season,"  I  said,  "  has  always  been  the  alter- 
nation of  slack  work  and  periods  of  special  exigency,  such 
as  planting  and  harvesting,  when  the  sudden  need  of  a 
multiplied  labor  force  has  necessitated  the  severest  strain  of 
effort  for  a  time.  This  alternation  of  too  little  with  too 
much  work,  I  should  suppose,  w^ould  still  continue  to  dis- 
tinguish agriculture  from  other  occupations." 

"  No  doubt,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  but  this  alternation,  far 
from  involving  either  a  wasteful  relaxation  of  effort  or  an 
excessive  strain  on  the  worker,  furnishes  occasions  of  rec- 
reation which  add  a  special  attraction  to  the  agricultural 
occupation.  The  seasons  of  j)!  anting  and  harvesting  are  of 
course  slightly  or  largely  different  in  the  several  districts 
of  a  country  so  extensive  as  this.  The  fact  makes  it  pos- 
sible successively  to  concentrate  in  each  district  as  large  an 
extra  contingent  of  workers  drawn  from  other  districts  as  is 
needed.  It  is  not  uncommon  on  a  few  days'  notice  to  throw 
a  hundred  thousand  extra  workers  into  a  region  where  there 
is  a  special  temporary  demand  for  labor.  The  inspiration 
of  these  great  mass  movements  is  remarkable,  and  must  be 
something  like  that  which  attended  in  your  day  the  mobiliz- 
ing and  marching  of  armies  to  war." 

We  drifted  on  for  a  space  in  silence  through  the  darken, 
ing  sky. 

"Truly,  Julian,''  said  the  doctor  at  length,  "no  Indus- 


SEVERAL  IMPORTANT  MATTERS  OVERLOOKED.  303 

trial  transformation  since  your  day  has  been  so  complete, 
and  none  surely  lias  atfected  so  great  a  proportion  of  the 
people,  as  that  which  has  come  over  agriculture.  The  poets 
from  Virgil  up  and  down  have  recognized  in  rural  pursuits 
and  the  cultivation  of  the  earth  the  conditions  most  favor- 
able to  a  serene  and  happy  life.  Their  fancies  in  this  re- 
spect have,  however,  until  the  present  time,  been  mocked 
by  the  actual  conditions  of  agriculture,  which  have  com- 
bined to  make  the  lot  of  the  farmer,  the  sustainer  of  all  the 
world,  the  saddest,  most  difficult,  and  most  hopeless  endured 
by  any  class  of  men.  From  the  beginning  of  the  w^orld  until 
the  last  century  the  tiller  of  the  soil  has  been  the  most  pa- 
thetic figure  in  history.  In  the  ages  of  slavery  his  was  the 
lowest  class  of  slaves.  After  slavery  disappeared  his  re- 
mained the  most  anxious,  arduous,  and  despairing  of  occupa- 
tions. He  endured  more  tlian  the  poverty  of  the  wage-earner 
without  his  freedom  from  care,  and  all  the  anxiety  of  the 
capitalist  \vithout  his  hope  of  compensating  profits.  On  the 
one  side  he  was  dependent  for  his  j^roduct,  as  was  no  other 
class,  upon  the  caprices  of  Nature,  while  on  the  other  in  dis- 
posing of  it  he  was  more  completely  at  the  mercy  of  the 
middleman  than  any  other  producer.  Well  might  he  won- 
der whether  man  or  Nature  were  the  more  heartless.  If 
the  crops  failed,  the  farmer  perished ;  if  they  prospered,  the 
middleman  took  the  profit.  Standing  as  a  buffer  between 
the  elemental  forces  and  human  society,  he  was  smitten  by 
the  one  only  to  be  thrust  back  by  the  other.  Bound  to  the 
soil,  he  fell  into  a  commercial  serfdom  to  the  cities  well-nigh 
as  complete  as  the  feudal  bondage  had  been.  By  reason  of 
his  isolated  and  unsocial  life  he  was  uncouth,  unlettered, 
out  of  touch  wath  culture,  without  opportunities  for  self- 
improvement,  even  if  his  bitter  toil  had  left  him  energy  or 
time  for  it.  For  this  reason  the  dwellers  in  the  towns 
looked  down  upon  him  as  one  belonging  to  an  inferior  race. 
In  all  lands,  in  all  ages,  the  countryman  has  been  considered 
a  proper  butt  by  the  most  loutish  townsman.  The  starving 
proletarian  of  the  city  pavement  scoffed  at  the  farmer  as  a 
boor.  Voiceless,  there  was  none  to  speak  for  him,  and  his 
rude,  inarticulate  complaints  were  met  w^ith  jeers.  Baalam 
was  not  more  astonished  when  the  ass  he  was  riding  re- 


304  EQUALITY. 

buked  him  than  the  ruling  classes  of  America  seem  to  have 
been  when  the  farmers,  toward  the  close  of  the  last  century, 
undertook  to  have  something  to  say  about  the  government 
of  the  country. 

"From  time  to  time  in  the  progress  of  history  the  condi- 
tion of  the  farmer  has  for  brief  periods  been  tolerable.  The 
yeoman  of  England  was  once  for  a  little  while  one  who 
looked  nobles  in  the  face.  Again,  the  American  farmer,  up 
to  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century,  enjoyed  the  golden 
age  of  agriculture.  Then  for  a  space,  producing  chiefly  for 
use  and  not  for  sale  to  middlemen,  he  was  the  most  inde- 
pendent of  men  and  enjoyed  a  rude  abundance.  But  before 
the  nineteenth  century  had  reached  its  last  third,  American 
agriculture  had  passed  through  its  brief  idyllic  j^eriod,  and, 
by  the  inevitable  operation  of  private  capitalism,  the  farmer 
began  to  go  down  hill  toward  the  condition  of  serfdom, 
which  in  all  ages  before  had  been  his  normal  state,  and  must 
be  for  evermore,  so  long  as  the  economic  exploitation  of  men 
by  men  should  continue.  While  in  one  sense  economic 
equality  brought  an  equal  blessing  to  all,  two  classes  had 
esjjecial  reason  to  hail  it  as  bringing  to  them  a  greater  ele- 
vation from  a  deeper  degradation  than  to  any  others.  One 
of  these  classes  was  the  women,  the  other  the  farmers." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

WHAT   STARTED   THE   REVOLUTION". 

What  did  I  say  to  the  theater  for  that  evening  ?  was 
the  question  with  which  Edith  met  me  when  we  reached 
home.  It  seemed  that  a  celebrated  historical  drama  of  the 
great  Revolution  was  to  be  given  in  Honolulu  that  after- 
noon, and  she  had  thought  I  might  like  to  see  it. 

"  Really  you  ought  to  attend,"  she  said,  "  for  the  presen- 
tation of  the  play  is  a  sort  of  compliment  to  you,  seeing  that 
it  is  revived  in  response  to  the  popular  interest  in  revolu- 
tionary history  which  your  presence  has  aroused." 

No  way  of  spending  the  evening  could  have  been  more 


WHAT  STARTED  THE  REVOLUTION.  305 

agreeable  to  me,  and  it  was  agreed  that  we  should  make  up 
a  family  theater  party. 

"  The  only  trouble,"  I  said,  as  we  sat  around  the  tea  table, 
"  is  that  I  don't  know  enough  yet  about  the  Revolution  to 
follow  the  play  very  intelligently.  Of  coui'se,  I  have  heard 
revolutionary  events  referred  to  frequently,  but  I  have  no 
connected  idea  of  the  Revolution  as  a  whole." 

"  That  will  not  matter"  said  Edith.  "  There  is  plenty  of 
time  before  the  play  for  father  to  tell  you  what  is  necessary. 
The  matinee  does  not  begin  till  three  in  the  afternoon  at 
Honolulu,  and  as  it  is  only  six  now  the  difference  in  time 
will  give  us  a  good  hour  before  the  curtain  rise-s." 

"  That's  rather  a  short  time,  as  well  as  a  short  notice,  for 
so  big  a  task  as  explaining  the  great  Revolution,"  the  doc- 
tor mildly  protested,  "  but  under  the  circumstances  I  sup- 
pose I  shall  have  to  do  the  best  I  can." 

"Beginnings  are  always  misty,"  he  said,  when  I  straight- 
way opened  at  him  with  the  question  when  the  great  Revo- 
lution began.  "Perhaps  St.  John  disposed  of  that  point 
in  the  simplest  way  when  he  said  that  '  in  the  beginning 
was  God.'  To  come  down  nearer,  it  might  be  said  that 
Jesus  Christ  stated  the  doctrinal  basis  and  practical  pur- 
pose of  the  great  Revolution  when  he  declared  that  the 
golden  rule  of  equal  and  the  best  treatment  for  all  was  the 
only  right  principle  on  which  people  could  live  together. 
To  speak,  however,  in  the  language  of  historians,  the  great 
Revohition,  like  all  important  events,  had  two  sets  of  causes 
— firsL,  the  general,  necessary,  and  fundamental  cause  which 
must  have  brought  it  about  in  the  end,  whatever  the  minor  cir- 
cumstances had  been  ;  and,  second,  the  proximate  or  iDrovok- 
ing  causes  which,  within  certain  limits,  determined  when  it 
actually  did  take  place,  together  with  the  incidental  features. 
These  immediate  or  provoking  causes  were,  of  course,  differ- 
ent in  different  countries,  but  the  general,  necessary,  and 
fundamental  cause  was  the  same  in  all  countries,  the  great 
Revolution  being,  as  you  know,  world-wide  and  nearly  simul- 
taneous, as  regards  the  more  advanced  nations. 

"  That  cause,  as  I  have  often  intimated  in  our  talks,  was 
the  growth  of  intelligence  and  diffusion  of  knowledge 
among,  the  masses,  which,  beginning  with  the  introduction 


306  EQUALITY. 

of  printing,  spread  slowly  tliroug-h  the  sixteenth,  seven- 
teenth, and  eighteenth  centuries,  and  much  more  rapidly 
during  the  nineteenth,  when,  in  the  more  favored  countries, 
it  began  to  be  something  like  general.  Previous  to  the 
beginning  of  this  process  of  enlightenment  the  condition 
of  the  mass  of  mankind  as  to  intelligence,  from  the  most 
ancient  times,  had  been  practically  stationary  at  a  point 
little  above  the  level  of  the  brutes.  With  no  more  thought 
or  wdll  of  their  OAvn  than  clay  in  the  hands  of  the  potter, 
the}^  were  unresistingly  molded  to  the  uses  of  the  more  in- 
telligent and  powerful  individuals  and  groups  of  their  kind. 
So  it  went  on  for  innumerable  ages,  and  nobody  dreamed  of 
anything  else  until  at  last  the  conditions  were  ripe  for  the 
inbreathing  of  an  intellectual  life  into  these  inert  and  sense- 
less clods.  The  process  by  which  this  awakening  took 
place  was  silent,  gradual,  imperceptible,  but  no  previous 
event  or  series  of  events  in  the  history  of  the  race  had  been 
comparable  to  it  in  the  effect  it  was  to  have  upon  human 
destiny.  It  meant  that  the  interest  of  the  many  instead  of 
the  few,  the  welfare  of  the  whole  instead  of  that  of  a  part, 
were  henceforth  to  be  the  paramount  purpose  of  the  social 
order  and  the  goal  of  its  evolution. 

"Dimly  your  nineteenth-century  philosophers  seem  to 
have  perceived  that  the  general  diffusion  of  intelligence 
was  a  new  and  large  fact,  and  that  it  introduced  a  very 
important  force  into  the  social  evolution,  but  they  were 
wall-eyed  in  their  failure  to  see  the  certainty  with  which  it 
foreshadowed  a  complete  revolution  of  the  economic  basis 
of  society  in  the  interest  of  the  whole  body  of  the  people  as 
opposed  to  class  interest  or  partial  interest  of  every  sort.  Its 
first  effect  was  the  democratic  movement  by  which  per- 
sonal and  class  rule  in  political  matters  was  overthrown  in 
the  name  of  the  supreme  interest  and  authority  of  the  peo- 
ple. It  is  astonishing  that  there  should  have  been  any  in* 
telligent  persons  among  you  who  did  not  perceive  that  po- 
litical democracy  was  but  the  pioneer  corps  and  advance 
guard  of  economic  democracy,  clearing  the  way  and  pro- 
viding the  instrumentality  for  the  substantial  part  of  the 
programme — namely,  the  equalization  of  the  distribution 
of  work  and  wealth.     So  much  for  the  main,  general,  and 


WHAT  STARTED   THE  REVOLUTION.  307 

necessary  cause  and  explanation  of  the  great  Revolution- 
namely,  the  progressive  ditfusion  of  intelligence  among  the 
masses  from  the  sixteenth  to  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
turies. Given  this  force  in  operation,  and  the  revolution  of 
the  economic  basis  of  society  must  sooner  or  later  have  been 
its  outcome  everywhere  :  whether  a  little  sooner  or  later 
and  in  just  what  way  and  with  just  what  circumstances,  the 
differing  conditions  of  different  countries  determined. 

''  In  the  case  of  America,  the  period  of  revolutionary  agita- 
tion which  resulted  in  the  establishment  of  the  present  order 
began  almost  at  once  upon  the  close  of  the  civil  w^ar.  Some 
historians  date  the  beginning  of  the  Revolution  from  1873." 
''  Eighteen  seventy-three  1 ''  I  exclaimed  ;  "  why,  that  was 
more  than  a  dozen  years  before  I  fell  asleep !  It  seems, 
then,  that  I  was  a  contemporary  and  witness  of  at  least  a  part 
of  the  Revolution,  and  yet  I  saw  no  Revolution.  It  is  true 
that  we  recognized  the  highly  serious  condition  of  indus- 
trial confusion  and  popular  discontent,  but  we  did  not  real- 
ize that  a  Revolution  was  on." 

''  It  was  to  have  been  expected  that  you  would  not,"  re- 
plied the  doctor.  "  It  is  very  rarely  that  the  contemporaries 
of  o-reat  revolutionary  movements  have  understood  then' 
nature  until  they  have  nearly  run  their  course.  Followmg 
generations  always  think  that  they  would  have  been  wiser 
in  reading  the  signs  of  the  times,  but  that  is  not  likely." 

"  But  what  was  there,"  I  said,  "  about  1873  which  has  led 
historians  to  take  it  as  the  date  from  which  to  reckon  the 
beginning  of  the  Revolution  ? " 

"  Simply  the  fact  that  it  marked  in  a  rather  distinct  way 
the  beginning  of  a  period  of  economic  distress  among  the 
American  people,  which  continued,  with  temporary  and  par- 
tial aUeviations,  until  the  overthrow  of  private  capitalism. 
The  popular  discontent  resulting  from  this  experience  was 
the  provoking  cause  of  the  Revolution.  It  aw-oke  Americans 
from  their  self-complacent  dream  that  the  social  problem 
had  been  solved  or  could  be  solved  by  a  system  of  democ- 
racy limited  to  merely  political  forms,  and  set  them  to  seek- 
ing the  true  solution. 

''  The  economic  distress  beginning  at  the  last  third  r.i  the 
century,  which  was  the  direct  provocation  of  the  Revolu- 


308  EQUALITY. 

tion,  was  very  slight  compared  with  that  which  had  been 
the  constant  lot  and  anciejit  heritage  of  other  nations.  It 
represented  merely  the  first  turn  or  two  of  the  screw  by 
which  capitalism  in  due  time  squeezed  dry  the  masses 
always  and  everywhere.  The  unexampled  space  and  rich- 
ness of  their  new  land  had  given  Americans  a  century's 
respite  from  the  universal  fate.  Those  advantages  had 
passed,  the  respite  was  ended,  and  the  time  had  come  when 
the  people  must  adapt  their  necks  to  the  yoke  all  peoples  be- 
fore had  worn.  But  having  grown  high-spirited  from  so 
long  an  experience  of  comparative  welfare,  the  Americans 
resisted  the  imposition,  and,  finding  mere  resistance  vain, 
ended  by  making  a  revolution.  That  in  brief  is  the  whole 
story  of  the  way  the  great  Eevolution  came  on  in  America. 
But  while  this  might  satisfy  a  languid  twentieth-century 
curiosity  as  to  a  matter  so  remote  in  time,  you  will  naturally 
want  a  little  more  detail.  There  is  a  particular  chapter  in 
Storiot's  History  of  the  Revolution  explaining  just  ]iow  and 
w^hy  the  growth  of  the  power  of  capital  provoked  the  great 
uprising,  which  deeply  impressed  me  in  my  school  days, 
and  I  don't  think  I  can  make  a  better  use  of  a  part  of  our 
short  time  than  by  reading  a  few  paragraphs  from  it." 

And  Edith  having  brought  the  book  from  the  library — 
for  we  still  sat  at  the  tea  table— the  doctor  read  : 

"  '  With  reference  to  the  evolution  of  the  system  of  pri- 
vate capitalism  to  the  point  where  it  provoked  the  Eevolu- 
tion by  threatening  the  lives  and  liberties  of  the  people, 
historians  divide  the  history  of  the  American  Republic,  from 
its  foundation  in  1787  to  the  great  Revolution  which  made 
it  a  true  republic,  into  three  periods. 

*' '  The  first  comprises  the  decades  from  the  foundation  of 
the  republic  to  about  the  end  of  the  first  third  of  the  nine- 
teenth century— say,  up  to  the  thirties  or  forties.  This  was 
the  period  during  which  the  power  of  capital  in  private 
hands  had  not  as  yet  shown  itself  seriously  aggressive.  The 
moneyed  class  was  small  and  the  accumulations  of  capital 
petty.  The  vastness  of  the  natural  resources  of  the  virgin 
country  defied  as  yet  the  lust  of  greed.  The  ample  lands  to 
be  had  for  the  taking  guaranteed  independence  to  all  at  the 
price  of  labor.     With  this  resource  no  man  needed  to  call 


WHAT  STARTED  THE   REVOLUTION.  309 

another  master.  This  may  be  considered  the  idyllic  period 
of  the  republic,  the  time  when  De  Tocqueville  saw  and  ad- 
mired it,  though  not  without  prescience  of  the  doom  that 
awaited  it.  The  seed  of  death  was  in  the  state  in  the  prin- 
ciple of  private  capitalism,  and  was  sure  in  time  to  grow 
and  ripen,  but  as  yet  the  conditions  were  not  favorable  to 
its  development.  All  seemed  to  go  well,  and  it  is  not  strange 
that  the  American  people  indulged  in  the  hope  that  their 
republic  had  indeed  solved  the  social  question. 

"  '  From  about  1830  or  1840,  speaking  of  course  in  a  general 
way  as  to  date,  we  consider  the  republic  to  have  entered  on 
its  second  phase — namely,  that  in  which  the  growth  and  con- 
centration of  capital  began  to  be  rapid.  The  moneyed  class 
now  grew  powerful,  and  began  to  reach  out  and  absorb  the 
natural  resources  of  the  country  and  to  organize  for  its 
profit  the  labor  of  the  people.  In  a  word,  the  growth  of 
the  plutocracy  became  vigorous.  The  event  which  gave  the 
great  impulse  to  this  movement,  and  fixed  the  time  of  the 
transition  from  the  fii^st  to  the  second  period  in  the  history 
of  the  nation,  was  of  course  the  general  application  of  steam 
to  commerce  and  industry.  The  transition  may  indeed  be 
said  to  have  begun  somewhat  earlier,  with  the  introduction 
of  the  factory  system.  Of  course,  if  neither  steam  nor  the 
inventions  which  made  the  factory  system  possible  had 
ever  been  introduced,  it  would  have  been  merely  a  ques- 
tion of  a  longer  time  before  the  capitalist  class,  proceeding 
in  this  case  by  landlordism  and  usury,  would  have  reduced 
the  masses  to  vassalage,  and  overthrown  democracy  even  as 
in  the  ancient  republics,  but  the  great  inventions  amazingly 
accelerated  the  plutocratic  conquest.  For  the  first  time  in 
history  the  capitalist  in  the  subjugation  of  his  fellows  had 
machinery  for  his  ally,  and  a  most  ])otent  one  it  was.  This 
was  the  mighty  factor  which,  by  multiplying  the  power  of 
capital  and  relatively  dwarfing  the  importance  of  the  work- 
ingman,  accounts  for  the  extraordinary  rapidity  with  which 
during  the  second  and  third  periods  the  conquest  of  the  re- 
public by  the  plutocracy  was  carried  out. 

'"  It  is  a  fact  creditable  to  Americans  that  they  appear  to 
have  begun  to  realize  as  early  as  the  forties  that  new  and 
dangerous    tendencies    were    affecting    the    republic    and 


310  EQUALITY. 

threatening  to  falsify  its  promise  of  a  wide  diffusion  of  wel- 
fare. That  decade  is  notable  in  American  history  for  the 
popular  interest  taken  in  the  discussion  of  the  possibility  of 
a  better  social  order,  and  for  the  numerous  experiments 
undertaken  to  test  the  feasibility  of  dispensing-  with  the  pri- 
vate capitalist  by  co-operative  industry.  Already  the  more 
intelligent  and  public-spirited  citizens  were  beginning  to 
observe  that  their  so-called  popular  government  did  not 
seem  to  interfere  in  the  slightest  degree  with  the  rule  of  the 
rich  and  the  subjection  of  the  masses  to  economic  masters, 
and  to  wonder,  if  that  were  to  continue  to  be  so,  of  exactly 
how  much  value  the  so-called  republican  institutions  were 
on  which  they  had  so  prided  themselves. 

"  '  This  nascent  agitation  of  the  social  question  on  radical 
lines  was,  however,  for  the  time  destined  to  prove  alior- 
tive  by  force  of  a  condition  peculiar  to  America — namely, 
the  existence  on  a  vast  scale  of  African  chattel  slavery  in 
the  country.  It  was  fitting  in  the  evolution  of  complete 
human  liberty  that  this  form  of  bondage,  cruder  and  more 
brutal,  if  not  on  the  whole  more  cruel,  than  wage  slavery, 
should  first  be  put  out  of  the  way.  But  for  this  necessity 
and  the  conditions  that  produced  it,  we  may  believe  that  the 
great  Ee volution  would  have  o/?curred  in  America  twenty- 
five  years  earlier.  From  the  period  of  1840  to  1870  the 
slavery  issue,  involving  as  it  did  a  conflict  of  stupendous 
forces,  absorbed  all  the  moral  and  mental  as  well  as  physical 
energies  of  the  nation. 

"  '  During  the  thirty  or  forty  years  from  the  serious  begin- 
ning of  the  antislavery  movement  till  the  war  was  ended 
and  its  issues  disposed  of,  the  nation  had  no  thought  to  spare 
for  any  other  interests.  During  this  period  the  concentra- 
tion of  capital  in  few  hands,  already  alarming  to  the  far- 
sighted  in  the  forties,  had  time,  almost  unobserved  and  quite 
unresisted,  to  push  its  conquest  of  the  country  and  the  peo- 
ple. Under  cover  of  the  civil  war,  with  its  preceding  and 
succeeding  periods  of  agitation  over  the  issues  of  the  war, 
the  capitalists  may  be  said  to  have  stolen  a  march  upon  the 
nation  and  intrenched  themselves  in  a  commanding  posi- 
tion. 

" '  Eighteen  seventy-three  is  the  point,  as  near  as  any  date, 


WHAT  STARTED  THE  REVOLUTION.  311 

at  which  the  country,  delivered  at  last  from  the  distracting 
ethical,  and  sectional  issues  of  slavery,  hrst  began  to  open 
its  eyes  to  the  irrepressible  conflict  which  the  growth  of 
capitalism  had  forced — a  conflict  between  the  power  of 
wealth  and  tlie  democratic  idea  of  the  equal  right  of  all  to 
life,  liberty,  and  happiness.  From  about  this  time  we  date, 
therefore,  the  beginning  of  the  final  or  revolutionary  period 
of  the  pseudo-American  Republic  which  resulted  in  the 
establishment  of  the  present  sj^stem. 

"  '  History  had  furnished  abundant  previous  illustrations 
of  the  overthrow  of  republican  societies  by  the  growth 
and  concentration  of  private  wealth,  but  never  before  had 
it  recorded  a  revolution  in  the  economic  basis  of  a  great 
nation  at  once  so  complete  and  so  swiftly  effected.  In 
America  before  the  war,  as  we  have  seen,  wealth  had  been 
distributed  with  a  general  effect  of  evenness  never  previously 
known  in  a  large  community'-.  There  had  been  few  rich  men 
and  very  few  considerable  fortunes.  It  had  been  in  the 
IDOwer  neither  of  individuals  nor  a  class,  through  the  pos- 
session of  overwhelming  capital,  to  exercise  oppression  upon 
the  rest  of  the  community.  In  the  short  space  of  twenty- 
five  to  thirty  years  these  economic  conditions  had  been  so 
completely  reversed  as  to  give  America  in  the  seventies  and 
eighties  the  name  of  the  land  of  millionaires,  and  make  it 
famous  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  as  the  country  of  all  others 
where  the  vastest  private  accumulations  of  wealth  existed. 
The  consequences  of  this  amazing  concentration  of  w^ealth 
formerly  so  equally  diffused,  as  it  had  affected  the  industrial, 
the  social,  and  the  political  interests  of  the  people,  could  not 
have  been  other  than  revolutionary. 

'' '  Free  competition  in  business  had  ceased  to  exist.  Per- 
sonal initiative  in  industrial  enterprises,  which  formerly 
had  been  open  to  all,  was  restricted  to  the  capitalists,  and  to 
the  larger  capitalists  at  that.  Formerly  known  all  over  the 
world  as  the  land  of  opportunities,  America  had  in  the  time 
of  a  generation  become  equally  celebrated  as  the  land  of 
monopolies.  A  man  no  longer  counted  chiefly  for  what  he 
w^as,  but  for  w^hat  he  had.  Brains  and  industrj^,  if  coupled 
with  civility,  might  indeed  win  an  upper  servant's  place  in 
the  employ  of  capital,  but  no  longer  could  command  a  career. 


312  EQUALITY. 

" '  The  concentration  of  the  economic  administration  of 
the  country  in  the  hands  of  a  comparatively  small  body  of 
g:reat  capitalists  had  necessarily  consolidated  and  central- 
ized in  a  corresponding  manner  all  the  functions  of  pro- 
duction and  disti'ibution.  Single  great  concerns,  backed  by 
enormous  aggregations  of  capital,  had  appropriated  tracts 
of  the  business  field  formerly  occupied  by  innumerable 
smaller  concerns.  In  this  process,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
swarms  of  small  businesses  were  crushed  like  flies,  and  their 
former  independent  proprietors  were  fortunate  to  find  places 
as  underlings  in  the  great  establishments  which  had  sup- 
planted them.  Straight  through  the  seventies  and  eighties, 
every  month,  every  week,  every' day  saw  some  fresh  prov- 
ince of  the  economic  state,  some  new  branch  of  industry 
or  commerce  formerly  open  to  the  enterprise  of  all,  cap- 
tured by  a  combination  of  cajjitalists  and  turned  into  an  in- 
trenched camp  of  monopoly.  The  words  syndicate  and 
trust  were  coined  to  describe  these  monstrous*  growths,  for 
which  the  former  language  of  the  business  world  had  no 
name, 

" '  Of  the  two  gj-eat  divisions  of  the  working  masses  it 
would  be  hard  to  say  whether  the  wage-earner  or  the  farmer 
had  sufi'ered  most  by  the  changed  order.  The  old  personal 
relationship  and  kindly  feeling  between  employee  and  em- 
ployer had  passed  away.  The  great  aggregations  of  capital 
Avhich  had  taken  the  place  of  the  former  employers  were 
impersonal  forces,  which  knew  the  worker  no  longer  as  a 
man,  but  as  a  unit  of  force.  He  was  merely  a  tool  in  the 
employ  of  a  machine,  the  managers  of  which  regarded  him 
as  a  necessary  nuisance,  who  must  unfortunately  be  re- 
tained at  the  least  possible  expense,  until  he  could  be  in- 
vented w^hoUy  out  of  existence  by  some  new  mechanical 
contrivance. 

"  '  The  economic  function  and  possibilities  of  the  farmer 
had  similarly  been  dwarfed  or  cut  off  as  a  result  of  the  con- 
centration of  the  business  system  of  the  country  in  the 
hands  of  a  few.  The  railroads  and  the  grain  market  had, 
between  them,  absorbed  the  former  profits  of  farming,  and 
left  the  farmer  only  the  wages  of  a  day  laborer  in  case  of  a 
good  crop,  and  a  mortgage  debt  in  case  of  a  bad  one  ;  and  all 


WHAT  STARTED  THE  REVOLUTION.  313 

this,  moreover,  coupled  with  the  responsibilities  of  a  capi- 
talist whose  money  was  invested  in  his  farm.  This  latter 
responsibility,  however,  did  not  long  continue  to  trouble  the 
farmer,  for,  as  naturally  might  be  supposed,  the  only  way 
he  could  exist  from  year  to  year  under  such  conditions  was 
by  contracting  debts  without  the  slightest  prospect  of  pay- 
ing them,  w^liich  presently  led  to  the  foreclosure  of  his  land, 
and  his  reduction  from  the  once  proud  estate  of  an  American 
farmer  to  that  of  a  tenant  on  his  way  to  become  a  peasant. 

"  '  From  1873  to  1896  the  histories  quote  some  six  distinct 
business  crises.  The  periods  of  rallying  between  them  w^ere, 
however,  so  brief  that  w^e  may  say  a  continuous  crisis  ex- 
isted during  a  large  part  of  that  period.  Now,  business 
crises  had  been  numerous  and  disastrous  in  the  early  and 
middle  epoch  of  the  republic,  but  the  business  system,  rest- 
ing at  that  time  on  a  widely  extended  popular  initiative, 
had  shown  itself  quickly  and  strongly  elastic,  and  the  rallies 
that  promptly  followed  the  crashes  had  always  led  to  a 
greater  prosperity  than  that  before  enjoyed.  But  this  elas- 
ticity, with  the  cause  of  it,  was  now  gone.  There  was  little 
or  slow  reaction  after  the  crises  of  the  seventies,  eighties, 
and  early  nineties,  but,  on  the  contrary,  a  scarcely  inter- 
rupted decline  of  prices,  wages,  and  the  general  prosperity 
and  content  of  the  farming  and  wage-earning  masses. 

"  '  There  could  not  be  a  more  striking  proof  of  the  down- 
ward tendency  in  the  welfare  of  the  wage-earner  and  the 
farmer  than  the  deteriorating  quality  and  dwindling  vol- 
ume of  foreign  immigration  w^hicli  marked  the  period. 
The  rush  of  European  emigrants  to  the  United  States  as  the 
land  of  promise  for  the  poor,  since  its  beginning  half  a  cen- 
tury before,  had  continued  with  increasing  volume,  and 
drawn  to  us  a  great  population  from  the  best  stocks  of  the 
Old  World.  Soon  after  the  w^ar  the  character  of  the  immi- 
gration began  to  change,  and  during  the  eighties  and  nine- 
ties came  to  be  almost  entirely  made  wp  of  the  lowest,  most 
wretched,  and  barbarous  races  of  Europe — the  very  scum  of 
the  continent.  Even  to  secure  these  wretched  recruits  the 
agents  of  the  transatlantic  steamers  and  the  American  land 
syndicates  had  to  send  their  agents  all  over  tlie  worst  dis- 
tricts of  Europe  and  flood  the  countries  with  Ij^ing  circulars. 


314  EQUALITY. 

Matters  had  come  to  the  point  that  no  European  peasant  or 
workingman,  who  was  yet  above  the  estate  of  a  beggar  or 
an  exile,  could  any  longer  afford  to  share  the  lot  of  the 
American  workingman  and  farmer,  so  little  time  before  the 
envy  of  tlie  toiling  world. 

"  '  While  the  politicians  sought,  especially  about  election 
time,  to  cheer  the  workingman  with  the  assui'ance  of  better 
times  just  ahead,  the  more  serious  economic  writers  seem 
to  have  frankly  admitted  that  the  superiority  formerly  en- 
joyed by  American  vvorkingmen  over  those  of  other  coun- 
tries could  not  be  expected  to  last  longer,  that  the  tend- 
ency henceforward  was  to  be  toward  a  world-wide  level  of 
prices  and  wages — namely,  the  level  of  the  country  where 
they  were  lowest.  In  keeping  with  this  prediction  we  note 
that  for  the  first  time,  about  the  beginning  of  the  nineties, 
the  American  employer  began  to  find  himself,  through  the 
reduced  cost  of  production  in  which  wages  were  the  main 
element,  in  a  i^o.sition  to  undersell  in  foreign  markets  the 
products  of  the  slave  gangs  of  British,  Belgian,  French,  and 
German  capitalists. 

"  '  It  was  during  this  period,  when  the  economic  distress 
of  the  masses  was  creating  industrial  war  and  making  revo- 
lutionists of  the  most  contented  and  previously  prosperous 
agricultural  population  in  history,  that  the  vastest  private 
fortunes  in  the  history  of  the  world  were  being  accumulated. 
The  millionaire,  who  had  been  unknown  before  the  war 
and  was  still  an  unusual  and  portentous  figure  in  the  early 
seventies,  was  presently  succeeded  by  the  multimillionaire, 
and  above  the  multimillionaires  towered  yet  a  new  race  of 
economic  Titans,  the  hundred  millionaires,  and  already  the 
coming  of  the  billionaire  was  being  discussed.  It  is  not 
difficult,  nor  did  the  people  of  the  time  find  it  so,  to  see,  in 
view  of  this  comparison,  where  the  wealth  went  which  the 
masses  were  losing.  Tens  of  thousands  of  modest  compe- 
tencies disappeared,  to  reappear  in  colossal  fortunes  in  single 
hands.  Visibly  as  the  body  of  the  spider  swells  as  he  sucks 
the  juices  of  his  victims,  had  these  vast  aggregations  grown 
in  measure  as  the  welfare  of  the  once  prosperous  people  had 
shrunk  away. 

"  '  The  social  consequences  of  so  complete  an  overthrow 


WHAT   STARTED   THE  REVOLUTION.  315 

of  the  former  economic  equilibrium  as  had  taken  place  could 
not  liave  been  less  than  revolutionary.     In  America,  before 
the  war,  the  accumulations  of  wealth  were  usually  the  re- 
sult of  the  personal  efforts  of  the  possessor  and  were  con- 
sequently small  and  correspondingly  precarious.     It  was  a 
saying  of  the  time  that  there  Avere  usually  but  three  gen- 
erations from  shirt-sleeves  to  shirt-sleeves— meaning  that  if 
a  man  accumulated  a  little  wealth,  his  son  generally  lost  it, 
and  the  grandson  was  again  a  manual  laborer.     Under  these 
circumstances  the  economic  disparities,  slight  at  most  and 
constantly  fluctuating,  entirely   failed   to  furnish   a  basis 
for  class  distinctions.     There  were  recognized  no  laboring 
class  as  such,  no  leisure  class,  no  fixed  classes  of  rich  and 
poor.     Riches  or  poverty,  the  condition  of  being  at  leisure 
or   obliged    to   work    were   considered   merely   temporary 
accidents  of   fortune  and  not  permanent  conditions.     All 
this  was  now  changed.     The   great  fortunes  of  the  new 
order  of  things   by  their  very  magnitude   were   stable  ac- 
quisitions,  not  easily  liable  to  be  lost,   capable  of  being 
handed  down  from  generation   to  generation  with  almost 
as  much  security  as  a  title  of  nobility.     On  the  other  hand, 
the  monopolization  of  all  the  valuable  economic  opportuni- 
ties in  the  country  by  the  great  capitalists  made  it  corre- 
spondingly impossible  for  those  not  of  the  capitalist  class 
to  attain  wealth.      The  hope  of   becoming  rich  some  day, 
which  before  the  war  every  energetic  American  had  cher- 
ished, was  now  practically  beyond  the  horizon  of  the  man 
born  to  poverty.     Between  rich  and  poor  the   door  was 
henceforth   shut.     The  way  up,  hitherto  the  social   safety 
valve,  had  been  closed,  and  the  bar  weighted  with  money 
bags. 

" '  A  natural  reflex  of  the  changed  social  conditions  of  the 
country  is  seen  in  the  new  class  terminology,  borrowed  from 
the  Old  Vv^orld,  which  soon  after  the  war  crept  into  use  in  the 
United  States.  It  had  been  the  boast  of  the  former  Ameri- 
can that  everybody  in  this  country  was  a  workingman ; 
but  now  that  term  we  find  more  and  more  frankly  em- 
ployed to  distinguish  the  poor  from  the  well-to-do.  For 
the  first  time  in  American  literature  we  begin  to  read 
of  the   lower  classes,   the  upper  classes,   and  the  middle 


316  EQUALITY. 

classes — terms  which  would  have  been  meaningless  in 
America  before  the  war,  but  now  corresponded  so  closely 
with  the  real  facts  of  the  situation  that  those  who  detested 
them  most  could  not  avoid  their  use. 

'"A  prodigious  display  of  luxury  such  as  Europe  could 
not  rival  had  begun  to  characterize  the  manner  of  life  of 
the  possessors  of  the  new  and  unexampled  fortunes.  Spec- 
tacles of  gilded  splendor,  of-  royal  pomp  and  boundless 
prodigality  mocked  the  popular  discontent  and  brought  out 
in  dazzling  light  the  width  and  depth  of  the  gulf  that  was 
being  fixed  between  the  masters  and  the  masses. 

"  '  Meanwhile  the  money  kings  took  no  pains  to  disguise 
the  fullness  of  their  conviction  that  the  day  of  democracj^ 
was  passing  and  the  dream  of  equality  nearly  at  an  end. 
As  the  popular  feeling  in  America  had  grown  bitter  against 
them  they  had  responded  with  frank  indications  of  their 
dislike  of  the  country  and  disgust  with  its  democratic  in- 
stitutions. The  leading  American  millionaires  had  become 
international  personages,  spending  the  greater  part  of  their 
time  and  their  revenue  in  European  countries,  sending  their 
children  there  for  education  and  in  some  instances  carrying 
their  preference  for  the  Old  World  to  the  extent  of  becom- 
ing subjects  of  foreign  powers.  The  disposition  on  the  part 
of  the  greater  American  capitalists  to  turn  their  backs  upon 
democracy  and  ally  themselves  with  European  and  mo- 
narchical institutions  was  emphasized  in  a  striking  manner 
by  the  long  list  of  marriages  arranged  during  this  period 
between  great  American  heiresses  and  foreign  noblemen. 
It  seemed  to  be  considered  that  the  fitting  destiny  for  the 
daughter  of  an  American  multimillionaire  was  such  a 
union.  These  great  capitalists  were  very  shrewd  in  money 
matters,  and  their  investments  of  vast  sums  in  the  pm'chase 
of  titles  for  their  posterity  was  the  strongest  evidence  they 
could  give  of  a  sincere  conviction  that  the  future  of  the 
world,  like  its  past,  belonged  not  to  the  peoj^le  but  to  class 
and  privilege. 

" '  The  influence  exercised  over  the  political  government 
by  the  moneyed  class  under  the  convenient  euphemism  of 
"  the  business  interests,''  which  merely  meant  the  interests 
of   tlie   rich,   had  alwavs   been  considerable,  ai^d  at  times 


WHAT  STARTED  THE  REVOLUTION.     31 7 

caused  ^ave  scandals.  In  measure  as  the  wealth  of  the 
country  had  become  concentrated  and  allied,  its  influence  in 
the  government  had  naturally  increased,  and  during  the 
seventies,  eighties,  and  nineties  it  became  a  scarcely  veiled 
dictatorship.  Lest  the  nominal  representatives  of  the  people 
should  go  astray  in  doing  the  will  of  the  capitalists,  the  lat- 
ter werje  represented  by  bodies  of  picked  agents  at  all  the 
places  of  government.  These  agents  closely  followed  the 
conduct  of  all  public  officials,  and  wherever  there  was  any 
wavering  in  their  fidelity  to  the  capitalists,  were  able  to 
bring  to  bear  influences  of  intimidation  or  bribery  which 
were  rarely  unsuccessful.  These  bodies  of  agents  had  a  rec- 
ognized semi-legal  place  in  the  political  system  of  the  day 
under  the  name  of  lobbyists. 

"  *  The  history  of  government  contains  few  more  shame- 
ful chapters  than  that  which  records  how  during  this  period 
the  Legislatures — municipal,  State,  and  national — seconded 
by  the  Executives  and  the  courts,  vied  with  each  other  by 
wholesale  grants  of  land,  privileges,  franchises,  and  monopo- 
lies of  all  kinds,  in  turning  over  the  country,  its  resources, 
and  its  people  to  the  domination  of  the  capitalists,  their  heirs 
and  assigns  forever.  The  i)ublic  lands,  which  a  few  decades 
before  had  promised  a  boundless  inheritance  to  future  gen- 
erations, w^ere  ceded  in  vast  domains  to  syndicates  and  in- 
dividual capitalists,  to  be  held  against  the  people  as  the  basis 
of  a  future  territorial  aristocracy  with  tributary  populations 
of  peasants.  Not  only  had  the  material  substance  of  the 
national  patrimony  been  thus  surrendered  to  a  handful  of 
the  people,  but  in  the  fields  of  commerce  and  of  industry 
all  the  valuable  economic  opportunities  had  been  secured 
by  franchises  to  monopolies,  precluding  future  generations 
from  opportunity  of  livelihood  or  employment,  save  as  the 
dependents  and  liegemen  of  a  hereditary  capitalist  class. 
In  the  chronicles  of  royal  misdoings  there  have  been  many 
dark  chapters  recording  how  besotted  or  imbecile  monarchs 
have  sold  their  people  into  bondage  and  sapped  the  w^elfare 
of  their  realms  to  enrich  licentious  favorites,  but  the  darkest 
of  those  chapters  is  bright  beside  that  which  records  the 
sale  of  the  heritage  and  hopes  of  the  American  people  to 
the  highest  bidder  by  the  so-called   democratic  State,  na- 


31S  EQUALITY. 

tioiial,  and  local  governments  during  the  period  of  which  we 
are  speaking. 

"  '  Especially  necessary  had  it  become  for  the  plutocracy 
to  be  able  to  use  the  powders  of  government  at  wall,  on  ac- 
count of  the  embittered  and  desperate  temper  of  the  work- 
ing masses. 

" '  The  labor  strikes  often  resulted  in  disturbances  too  ex- 
tensive to  be  dealt  with  by  the  police,  and  it  became  the  com- 
mon practice  of  the  capitalists,  in  case  of  serious  strikes,  to 
call  on  the  State  and  national  governments  to  furnish  troops 
to  protect  their  property  interest.  The  principal  function 
of  the  militia  of  the  States  had  become  the  suppression  of 
strikes  with  bullet  or  bayonet,  or  the  standing  guard  over 
the  plants  of  the  capitalists,  till  hunger  comxDclled  the  insur- 
gent workmen  to  surrender. 

" '  During  the  eighties  the  State  governments  entered 
upon  a  general  policy  of  preparing  the  militia  for  this  new 
and  ever-enlarging  field  of  usefulness.  The  National  Guard 
was  turned  into  a  Capitalist  Guard.  The  force  was  gen- 
erally reorganized,  increased  in  numbers,  improved  in  disci- 
pline, and  trained  with  especial  reference  to  the  business  of 
shooting  riotous  workingmen.  The  drill  in  street  firing — 
a  quite  new  feature  in  the  training  of  the  American  militia- 
man, and  a  most  ominous  one — became  the  prominent  test 
of  efficiency.  Stone  and  brick  armories,  fortified  against 
attack,  loopholed  for  musketry  and  mounted  with  guns  to 
sweep  the  streets,  were  erected  at  the  strategic  points  of 
the  large  cities.  In  some  instances  the  militia,  which,  after 
all,  w^as  pretty  near  the  people,  had,  how^ever,  showm  such 
unw^illingness  to  fire  on  strikers  and  such  symptoms  of 
sympathy  for  their  grievances,  that  the  capitalists  did  not 
trust  them  fully,  but  in  serious  cases  preferred  to  depend  on 
the  pitiless  professional  soldiers  of  the  General  Government, 
the  regulars.  Consequently,  the  Government,  upon  request 
of  the  capitalists,  adopted  the  policy  of  establishing  fortified 
camps  near  the  great  cities,  and  posting  heavy  garrisons  in 
them.  The  Indian  wars  were  ceasing  at  about  this  time, 
and  the  troops  that  liad  been  stationed  on  the  Western 
plains  to  protect  the  white  settlements  from  the  Indians 
were  brought  East  to  protect  the  capitalists  from  the  white 


WHAT  STARTED  THE  RE  VOLUTION.  319 

settlements.      Such    was    the   evolution    of    private    capi- 
talism. 

"  '  The  extent  and  practical  character  of  the  use  to  which 
the  capitalists  intended  to  put  the  military  arm  of  the  Gov- 
erment  in  tlieir  controversy  with  the  workingmen  may  be 
judged  from  the  fact  that  in  single  years  of  the  early  nine- 
ties armies  cf  eight  and  ten  thousand  men  were  on  the 
march,  in  New  York  and  Pennsylvania,  to  suppress  strikes. 
In  1892  the  militia  of  five  States,  aided  by  the  regulars,  were 
under  arms  against  strikers  simultaneously,  the  aggregate 
force  of  troops  probably  making  a  larger  body  than  General 
Washington  ever  commanded.  Here  surely  was  civil  war 
already. 

"  'Americans  of  the  former  days  had  laughed  scornfully 
at  the  bayonet-propped  monarchies  of  Europe,  saying  rightly 
that  a  government  which  needed  to  be  defended  by  force 
from  its  own  people  was  a  self-confessed  failure.  To  this 
pass,  however,  the  industrial  system  of  the  United  States 
was  fast  coming— it  was  becoming  a  government  by  bayo- 
nets. 

Thus  briefly,  and  without  attempt  at  detail,  may  be  re- 
capitulated some  of  the  main  aspects  of  the  transformation 
in  the  condition  of  the  American  people,  resulting  from  the 
concentration  of  the  wealth  of  the  country,  which  iii-st  began 
to  excite  serious  alarm  at  the  close  of  the  civil  war. 

'' '  It  might  almost  be  said  that  the  citizen  armies  of  the 
North  had  returned  from  saving  the  republic  from  open 
foes,  to  find  tliat  it  had  been  stolen  from  tliem  b}^  more 
stealthy  but  far  more  dangerous  enemies  whom  they  had 
left  at  home.  While  they  had  been  putting  down  caste 
rule  based  on  race  at  the  South,  class  rule  based  on  wealth 
had  been  set  up  at  the  North,  to  be  in  time  extended  over 
South  and  North  alike.  While  the  armies  of  the  people 
had  been  shedding  rivers  of  blood  in  the  effort  to  preserve 
the  political  unity  of  the  nation,  its  social  unity,  upon  which 
the  very  life  of  a  republic  depends,  had  been  attacked  by  the 
beginnings  of  class  divisions,  which  could  only  end  by 
splitting  the  once  coherent  nation  into  mutually  suspicious 
and  inimical  bodies  of  citizens,  requiring  the  iron  bands  of 
despotism  to  hold  them  together  in  a  political  organization. 


320  EQUALITY. 

Four  million  negroes  had  indeed  been  freed  from  chattel 
slavery,  but  meanwhile  a  nation  of  white  men  had  passed 
under  the  yoke  of  an  economic  and  social  vassalage  which, 
though  the  common  fate  of  European  peoples  and  of  the 
ancient  world,  the  founders  of  the  republic  had  been  proudly 
confident  their  posterity  would  never  wear.'  " 

The  doctor  closed  the  book  from  which  he  had  been 
reading  and  laid  it  down. 

"Julian,"  he  said,  "this  story  of  the  subversion  of  the 
American  Republic  by  the  plutocracj^  is  an  astounding  one. 
You  were  a  witness  of  the  situation  it  describes,  and  are 
able  to  judge  whether  the  statements  are  exaggerated." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  I  replied,  "  I  should  think  you  had 
been  reading  aloud  from  a  collection  of  newspapers  of  the 
period.  All  the  political,  social,  and  business  facts  and  symp- 
toms to  which  the  writer  has  referred  were  matters  of  public 
discussion  and  common  notoriety.  If  they  did  not  impress 
me  as  they  do  now,  it  is  simply  because  I  imagine  I  never 
heard  them  grouped  and  marshaled  witli  the  purpose  of 
bringing  out  their  significance." 

Once  more  the  doctor  asked  Edith  to  bring  him  a  book 
from  the  library.  Turning  the  pages  until  he  had  found 
the  desired  place,  he  said  : 

"  Lest  you  should  fancy  that  the  force  of  Storiot's  state- 
ment of  the  economic  situation  in  the  United  States  during 
the  last  third  of  the  nineteenth  century  owes  anything  to 
the  rhetorical  arrangement,  I  want  to  give  you  just  a  few 
hard,  cold  statistics  as  to  the  actual  distribution  of  prop- 
erty during  that  period,  showing  the  extent  to  which  its 
ownership  had  been  concentrated.  Here  is  a  volume  made 
up  of  information  on  this  subject  based  upon  analyses  of 
census  reports,  tax  assessments,  the  files  of  probate  courts, 
and  other  official  documents.  I  will  give  you  three  sets  of 
calculations,  each  prepared  by  a  separate  authority  and 
based  upon  a  distinct  line  of  investigation,  and  all  agreeing 
with  a  closeness  which,  considering  the  magnitude  of  the 
calculation,  is  astounding,  and  leaves  no  room  to  doubt  the 
substantial  accuracj"  of  the  conclusions. 

"  From  the  first  set  of  tables,  which  was  prepared  in  1893 


WHAT  STARTED  THE  REVOLUTION.  321 

by  a  census  ofRcial  from  the  returns  of  the  United  States 
census,  we  find  it  estimated  that  out  of  sixty-two  billions  of 
wealth  in  the  country  a  group  of  millionaires  and  multi- 
millionaires, representing  three  one-hundredths  of  one  per 
cent  of  the  population,  owned  twelve  billions,  or  one  fifth. 
Thirty-three  billions  of  the  rest  was  owned  by  a  little  less 
than  nine  per  cent  of  the  American  people,  being  the  rich 
and  well-to-do  class  less  than  millionaires.  That  is,  the 
millionaires,  rich,  and  well-to-do,  making  altogether  but 
nine  per  cent  of  the  whole  nation,  owned  forty-five  billions 
of  the  total  national  valuation  of  sixty-two  billions.  The 
remaining  ninety-one  per  cent  of  the  whole  nation,  consti- 
tuting the  bulk  of  the  people,  were  classed  as  the  poor,  and 
divided  among  themselves  the  remaining  seventeen  billion 
dollars. 

"  A  second  table,  published  in  1894  and  based  upon  the 
surrogated'  records  of  estates  in  the  great  State  of  New  York, 
estimates  that  one  per  cent  of  the  people,  one  one-hundredth 
of  the  nation,  possessed  over  half,  or  fifty-five  per  cent,  of 
its  total  wealth.  It  finds  that  a  further  fraction  of  the  pojDU- 
lation,  including  the  well-to-do,  and  amounting  to  eleven 
per  cent,  owned  over  thirty- two  per  cent  of  the  total  wealth, 
so  that  twelve  per  cent  of  the  whole  nation,  including  the 
very  rich  and  the  well-to-do,  monopolized  eighty-seven  per 
cent  of  the  total  wealth  of  the  country,  leaving  but  thirteen 
per  cent  of  that  wealth  to  be  shared  among  the  remaining 
eighty-eight  per  cent  of  the  nation.  This  eighty-eight  per 
cent  of  the  nation  was  subdivided  into  the  poor  and  the  very 
poor.  The  last,  constituting  fifty  per  cent  out  of  the  eighty- 
eight,  or  half  the  entire  nation,  had  too  little  wealth  to  be 
estimated  at  all,  apparently  living  a  hand-to-mouth  exist- 
ence. 

"  The  estimates  of  a  third  computator  whom  I  shall  quote, 
although  taken  from  quite  different  data,  agree  remarkably 
with  the  others,  representing  as  they  do  about  the  same  period. 
These  last  estimates,  which  were  published  in  1889  and  1891, 
and  like  the  others  produced  a  strong  impression,  divide  the 
nation  into  three  classes — the  rich,  the  middle,  and  the 
working  class.  The  rich,  being  one  and  four  tenths  per 
cent  of  the  population,  are  credited  with  seventy  per  cent  of 


322  EQUALITY. 

the  total  wealth.  The  middle  class,  representing  nine  and  two 
tenths  per  cent  of  the  population,  is  credited  with  twelve 
per  cent  of  the  total  wealth,  the  rich  and  middle  classes, 
together,  representing  ten  and  six  tenths  per  cent  of  the 
population,  having  therefore  eighty-two  per  cent  of  the 
total  wealth,  leaving  to  the  working  class,  which  constituted 
eighty-nine  and  four  tenths  of  the  nation,  but  eighteen  per 
cent  of  the  wealth,  to  share  among  them.'' 

"  Doctor,"  I  exclaimed,  "  I  knew  things  were  pretty  un- 
equally divided  in  my  day,  but  figures  like  these  are  over- 
whelming. You  need  not  take  the  trouble  to  tell  me  any- 
thing further  by  way  of  explaining  why  the  peoj^le  revolted 
against  private  capitalism.  These  figures  were  enough  to 
turn  the  very  stones  into  revolutionists." 

"  I  thought  3^ou  would  say  so,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  And 
please  remember  also  that  these  tremendous  figures  repre- 
sent only  the  progress  made  toward  the  concentration  of 
wealth  mainly  within  the  period  of  a  single  generation. 
Well  might  Americans  say  to  themselves  '  If  such  things 
are  done  in  the  green  tree,  what  shall  be  done  in  the  dry  ? ' 
If  private  capitalism,  dealing  with  a  community  in  which 
had  previously  existed  a  degree  of  economic  equality  never 
before  known,  could  within  a  period  of  some  thirty  years 
make  such  a  prodigious  stride  toward  the  complete  expro- 
priation of  the  rest  of  the  nation  for  the  enrichment  of 
a  class,  what  was  likely  to  be  left  to  the  people  at  the 
end  of  a  century  ?  What  was  to  be  left  even  to  the  next 
generation  ? " 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

WHY   THE    REVOLUTION   WENT    SLOW   AT  FIRST  BUT  FAST  AT 

LAST. 

"  So  much  for  the  causes  of  the  Revolution  in  America, 
both  the  general  fundamental  cause,  consisting  in  the  factor 
newly  introduced  into  social  evolution  by  the  enlighten- 
ment of  the  masses  and  iri'esistibly  tending  to  equality,  and 
the  immediate  local  causes  peculiar  to  America,  wiiich  ac- 


SLOW  AT  FIRST  BUT  FAST  AT  LAST.  323 

count  for  the  Revolution  having-  come  at  the  particular  time 
it  did  and  for  its  taking  the  particular  course  it  did.  Now, 
briefly  as  to  that  course  : 

"The  pinching  of  the  economic  shoe  resulting  from  the 
concentration  of  wealth  was  naturally  first  felt  by  the  class 
with  least  reserves,  the  wage-earners,  and  the  Revolution 
may  be  said  to  have  begun  with  their  revolt.  In  1869  the 
first  great  labor  organization  in  America  was  formed  to  re- 
sist the  power  of  capital.  Previous  to  the  war  the  number 
of  strikes  that  had  taken  place  in  the  country  could  be 
counted  on  the  fingers.  Before  the  sixties  were  out  they 
were  counted  by  hundreds,  during  the  seventies  by  thou- 
sands, and  during  the  eighties  the  labor  reports  enumer- 
ate nearly  ten  thousand,  involving  two  or  three  million 
w^orkers.  Many  of  these  strikes  were  of  continental  scope, 
shaking  the  whole  commercial  fabric  and  causing  general 
panics. 

"Close  after  the  revolt  of  the  wage-earners  came  that 
of  the  farmers — less  turbulent  in  methods  but  more  seri- 
ous and  abiding  in  results.  This  took  the  form  of  secret 
leagues  and  open  political  parties  devoted  to  resisting  what 
was  called  the  money  power.  Already  in  the  seventies 
these  organizations  threw  State  and  national  politics  into 
confusion,  and  later  became  the  nucleus  of  the  revolu- 
tionary party. 

"  Your  contemporaries  of  the  thinking  classes  can  not  be 
taxed  with  indifference  to  these  signs  and  portents.  The 
public  discussion  and  literature  of  the  time  reflect  the  con- 
fusion and  anxiety  with  which  the  unprecedented  manifes- 
tations of  popular  discontent  had  affected  all  serious  persons. 
The  old-fashioned  Fourth-of-July  boastings  had  ceased 
to  be  heard  in  the  land.  All  agreed  that  somehow  re- 
publican forms  of  government  had  not  fulfilled  their 
promise  as  guarantees  of  the  popular  welfare,  but  were 
showing  themselves  impotent  to  prevent  the  recrudes- 
cence in  the  New  World  of  all  the  Old  World's  evils, 
especially  those  of  class  and  caste,  which  it  had  been  sup- 
posed could  never  exist  in  the  atmosphere  of  a  republic. 
It  was  recognized  on  all  sides  that  the  old  order  was 
changing  for  the  worse,  and  that  the  republic  and  all  it 


32i  EQUALITY. 

had  been  thou^'ht  to  stand  for  was  in  danger.  It  was 
the  universal  cry  that  something  must  be  done  to  check 
the  ruinous  tendency.  Eeform  was  the  word  in  every- 
body's mouth,  and  the  rallying  cry,  whether  in  sincerity 
or  pretense,  of  every  party.  But  indeed,  Julian,  I  need 
waste  no  time  describing  this  state  of  affairs  to  you,  for 
you  were  a  witness  of  it  till  1887." 

"  It  was  all  quite  as  you  describe  it,  the  industrial  and 
political  warfare  and  turmoil,  the  general  sense  that  the 
country  was  going  wrong,  and  the  universal  cry  for  some 
sort  of  reform.  But,  as  I  said  before,  the  agitation,  while 
alarming  enough,  was  too  confused  and  purposeless  to 
seem  revolutionary.  All  agreed  that  something  ailed 
the  country,  but  no  two  agreed  what  it  was  or  how  to 
cure  if- 

"Just  so,"  said  the  doctor.  "Our  historians  divide  the 
entire  revolutionary  epoch — from  the  close  of  the  war,  or 
the  beginning  of  the  seventies,  to  the  establishment  of  the 
present  order  early  in  the  twentieth  century— into  two  pe- 
riods, the  incoherent  and  the  rational.  The  first  of  these  is 
the  period  of  which  we  have  been  talking,  and  with  which 
Storiot  deals  with  in  the  paragraphs  I  have  read — the  period 
with  which  you  were,  for  the  most  part,  contemporarj^.  As 
we  have  seen,  and  you  know  better  than  we  can,  it  was  a 
time  of  terror  and  tumult,  of  confused  and  purposeless  agi- 
tation, and  a  Babel  of  contradictory  clamor.  The  people 
were  blindly  kicking  in  the  dark  against  the  pricks  of  capi- 
talism, without  any  clear  idea  of  what  they  were  kicking 
against. 

"The  two  great  divisions  of  the  toilers,  the  wage-earn- 
ers and  the  farmers,  were  equally  far  from  seeing  clear 
and  whole  the  nature  of  the  situation  and  the  forces  of 
which  they  were  the  victims.  The  wage-earners'  only 
idea  was  that  by  organizing  the  artisans  and  manual  work- 
ers their  wages  could  be  forced  up  and  maintained  in- 
definitely. They  seem  to  have  had  absolutely  no  more 
knowledge  than  children  of  the  effect  of  the  profit  system 
always  and  inevitably  to  keep  the  consuming  power  of 
the  community  indefinitely  below  its  producing  power  and 
thus  to  maintain  a  constant  state  of  more  or  less  aggravated 


SLOW  AT  FIRST  BUT   FAST  AT  LAST.  325 

glut  in  the  goods  and  labor  markets,  and  that  nothing 
could  possibly  prevent  the  constant  presence  of  these  con- 
ditions so  long  as  the  profit  system  was  tolerated,  or  their 
effect  finally  to  reduce  the  wage-earner  to  the  subsistence 
point  or  below  as  profits  tended  downward.  Until  the 
wage-earners  saw  this  and  no  longer  wasted  their  strength 
in  hopeless  or  trivial  strikes  against  individual  capitalists 
which  could  not  ijossibly  affect  the  general  result,  and 
united  to  overthrow  the  profit  system,  the  Revolution  must 
wait,  and  the  capitalists  had  no  reason  to  disturb  them- 
selves. 

"As  for  the  farmers,  as  they  were  not  wage-earners, 
they  took  no  interest  in  the  plans  of  the  latter,  which 
aimed  merely  to  benefit  the  wage-earning  class,  but  de- 
voted themselves  to  equally  futile  schemes  for  their  class, 
in  which,  for  the  same  reason  that  they  were  merely  class 
remedies,  the  wage-earners  took  no  interest.  Their  aim 
was  to  obtain  aid  from  the  Government  to  improve  their 
condition  as  petty  capitalists  opjDressed  by  the  greater  capi- 
talists who  controlled  the  traffic  and  markets  of  the  coun- 
try ;  as  if  any  conceivable  device,  so  long  as  private 
capitalism  should  be  tolerated,  would  prevent  its  natural 
evolution,  which  was  the  crushing  of  the  smaller  capitalists 
by  the  larger. 

''  Their  main  idea  seems  to  have  been  that  their  troubles 
as  farmers  were  chiefly  if  not  wholly  to  be  accounted  for 
by  certain  vicious  acts  of  financial  legislation,  the  effect 
of  which  they  held  had  been  to  make  money  scarce  and 
dear.  What  they  demanded  as  the  sufficient  cure  of  the 
existing  evils  was  the  repeal  of  the  vicious  legislation 
and  a  larger  issue  of  currency.  This  they  believed  would 
be  especially  beneficial  to  the  farming  class  by  reducing 
the  interest  on  their  debts  and  raising  the  price  of  their 
product. 

"Undoubtedly  the  currency  and  the  coinage  and  the 
governmental  financial  system  in  general  had  been  shame- 
lessly abused  by  the  capitalists  to  corner  the  wealth  of  the 
nation  in  their  hands,  but  their  misuse  of  this  part  of  the 
economic  machinery  had  been  no  worse  than  their  manip- 
ulation of  the  other  portions  of  the  system.  Their  trick- 
22 


326  EQUALITY. 

ery  with  the  currency  had  only  helped  them  to  monopo- 
lize the  wealth  of  the  people  a  little  faster  than  they  would 
have  done  it  had  they  depended  for  their  enrichment  on 
what  were  called  the  legitimate  operations  of  rent,  inter- 
est, and  profits,  while  a  part  of  their  general  policy  of  eco- 
nomic subjugation  of  the  people,  the  manipulation  of  the 
currency  had  not  been  essential  to  that  policy,  which  wDuld 
have  succeeded  just  as  certainly  had  it  been  left  out.  The 
capitalists  were  under  no  necessity  to  juggle  with  the  coin- 
age had  they  been  content  to  make  a  little  more  leisurely 
process  of  devouring  the  lands  and  effects  of  the  people. 
For  that  result  no  particular  form  of  currency  system  w-as 
necessary,  and  no  conceivable  monetary  system  would  have 
I)re vented  it.  Gold,  silver,  paper,  dear  money,  cheap  money, 
hard  money,  bad  money,  good  money — every  form  of  token 
from  cowries  to  guineas — had  all  answered  equally  well  in 
different  times  and  countries  for  the  designs  of  the  capital- 
ist, the  details  of  the  game  being  only  slightly  modified 
according  to  the  conditions. 

"  To  have  convinced  himself  of  the  folly  of  ascribing  the 
economic  distress  to  w^hich  his  class  as  w^ell  as  the  people  at 
large  had  been  reduced,  to  an  act  of  Congress  relating  to 
the  currency,  the  American  farmer  need  onh^  have  looked 
abroad  to  foreign  lands,  wdiere  he  would  have  seen  that  the 
agricultural  class  every w^h ere  w^as  plunged  in  a  misery 
greater  than  his  own,  and  that,  too,  wdthout  the  slightest 
regard  to  the  nature  of  the  various  monetary  systems 
in  use. 

"  Was  it  indeed  a  new  or  strange  phenomenon  in  human 
affairs  that  the  agriculturists  were  going  to  the  wall,  that 
the  American  farmer  should  seek  to  account  for  the  fact  by 
some  new  and  peculiarly  American  policy  ?  On  the  con- 
trary, this  had  been  the  fate  of  the  agricultural  class  in  all 
ages,  and  what  was  now  threatening  the  American  tiller  of 
the  soil  w^as  nothing  other  than  the  doom  which  had  befallen 
his  kind  in  every  previous  generation  and  in  every  part  of 
the  world.  Manifestly,  then,  he  should  seek  the  explana- 
tion not  in  any  particular  or  local  conjunction  of  circum- 
stances, but  in  some  general  and  alv/ays  operative  cause. 
This  general  cause,  operative  in  all  lands  and   times  and 


SLO\Y  AT  FIRST   BUT  FAST   AT   LAST.         '327 

among  all  races,  he  would  presently  see  when  he  should  in- 
terrogate history,  was  the  irresistible  tendency  by  which  the 
capitalist  class  in  the  evolution  of  any  society  through  rent, 
interest,  and  profits  absorbs  to  itself  the  whole  wealth  of  the 
country,  and  thus  reduces  the  masses  of  the  people  to  eco- 
nomic, social,  and  political  subjection,  the  most  abject  class 
of  all  being  invariably  the  tillers  of  the  soil.  For  a  time 
the  American  population,  including  the  farmers,  had  been 
enabled,  thanks  to  the  vast  bounty  of  a  virgin  and  empty 
continent,  to  evade  the  operation  of  this  universal  law,  but 
the  common  fate  was  now  about  to  overtake  them,  and  noth- 
ing Avould  avail  to  avert  it  save  the  overthrow  of  the  system 
of  private  capitalism  of  which  it  always  had  been  and  al- 
ways must  be  the  necessary  effect. 

"  Time  would  faU  even  to  mention  the  innumerable  reform 
nostrums  offered  for  the  cure  of  the  nation  by  smaller 
bodies  of  reformers.  They  ranged  from  the  theory  of  the 
prohibitionists  that  the  chief  cause  of  the  economic  distress— 
from  v>diich  the  teetotal  farmers  of  the  West  were  the  worst 
sufferers— was  the  use  of  intoxicants,  to  that  of  the  party 
which  agreed  that  the  nation  was  being  divinely  chastised 
l>ecause  there  was  no  formal  recognition  of  the  Trinity  in 
the  Constitution.  Of  course,  these  were  extravagant  per- 
son?., but  even  those  who  recognized  the  concentration  of 
wealth  as  the  cause  of  the  whole  trouble  quite  failed  to  see 
that  this  concentration  was  itseii  the  natural  evolution  of 
private  capitalism,  and  that  it  was  not  possible  to  prevent  it 
or  any  of  its  consequences  unless  and  until  private  capital- 
ism itself  should  be  put  an  end  to. 

''  As  might  be  expected,  efforts  at  resistance  so  ill  calcu- 
lated as  these  demonstrations  of  the  wage-earners  and  farm- 
ers, not  to  speak  of  the  host  of  petty  sects  of  so-called 
reformers  during  the  first  phase  of  the  Revolution,  were 
ineffectual.  The  great  labor  organizations  which  had  sprung 
up  shortly  after  the  war  as  soon  as  the  wage-earr^rs  felt  the 
necessity  of  banding  themselves  to  resist  the  jjke  of  con- 
centrated capital,  after  twenty-five  years  of  fighting,  had 
demonstrated  their  utter  inability  to  mainl^in.  much  less 
to  improve,  the  condition  of  the  workingman.  During  this 
period  ten  or  fifteen  thousand  recorded   strikes  and  lock- 


S28  EQUALITY. 

outs  had  taken  place,  but  the  net  result  of  the  industrial 
civil  war,  protracted  through  so  long  a  period,  had  been  to 
prove  to  tlie  dullest  of  workingmen  the  hopelessness  of 
securing  any  considerable  amelioration  of  their  lot  by  class 
action  or  organization,  or  indeed  of  even  maintaining  it 
against  encroachments.  After  all  this  unexampled  suf- 
fering and  fighting,  the  wage-earners  found  themselves 
worse  off  than  ever.  Nor  had  the  farmers,  the  other  great 
division  of  the  insurgent  masses,  been  any  more  suc- 
cessful in  resisting  the  money  power.  Their  leagues,  al- 
though controlling  votes  by  the  million,  had  proved  even 
more  impotent  if  possible  than  the  wage-earners'  organi- 
zations to  help  their  members.  Even  where  they  had  been 
ajjparently  successful  and  succeeded  in  capturing  the  po- 
litical control  of  states,  they  found  the  money  power  still 
able  by  a  thousand  indirect  influences  to  balk  their  efforts 
and  turn  their  seeming  victories  into  apples  of  Sodom, 
which  became  ashes  in  the  hands  of  those  who  would  pluck 
them. 

'*  Of  the  vast,  anxious,  and  anguislied  volume  of  public 
discussion  as  to  what  should  be  done,  what  after  twenty-five 
years  had  been  the  practical  outcome  ?  Absolutely  noth- 
ing. If  here  and  there  petty  reforms  had  been  introduced, 
on  the  whole  the  power  of  the  evils  against  which  those 
reforms  were  directed  had  vastly  increased.  If  the  power 
of  the  plutocracy  in  1873  had  been  as  the  little  finger  of 
a  man,  in  1895  it  was  thicker  than  his  loins.  Certainly, 
so  far  as  superficial  and  material  indications  went,  it 
looked  as  if  the  battle  had  been  going  thus  far  steadily, 
swiftly,  and  hopelessly  against  the  people,  and  that  the 
American  capitalists  who  expended  their  millions  in  buy- 
ing titles  of  nobility  for  their  children  were  wiser  in  their 
generation  than  the  children  of  light  and  better  judges  of 
the  future. 

"  Nevertheless,  no  conclusion  could  possibly  have  been 
more  mistaken.  During  these  decades  of  apparently  un- 
varied failure  and  disaster  the  revolutionary  movement  for 
the  complete  overthrow  of  private  capitalism  had  made  a 
progress  which  to  rational  minds  should  have  presaged  its 
<v'omplete  triumph  in  the  near  future.'' 


SLOW  AT  FIRST  BUT  FAST   AT  LAST.  329 

"  Where  had  the  progress  been  ? "  I  said ;  "  I  don't  see 
any." 

"  In  the  development  among  the  masses  of  the  people  of 
the  necessary  revolutionary  temper,"  replied  the  doctor; 
"  in  the  preparation  of  the  popular  mind  by  the  only  pro- 
cess that  could  have  prepared  it,  to  accept  the  programme  of 
a  radical  reorganization  of  the  economic  system  from  the 
ground  up.  A  great  revolution,  you  must  remember,  which 
is  to  profoundly  change  a  form  of  society,  must  accumulate 
a  tremendous  moral  force,  an  overwhelming  weight  of  jus- 
tification, so  to  speak,  behind  it  before  it  can  start.  The 
processes  by  which  and  the  period  during  which  this  ac- 
cumulation of  impulse  is  effected  are  by  no  means  so  spec- 
tacular as  the  events  of  the  subsequent  period  when  the 
revolutionary  movement,  having  obtained  an  irresistible 
momentum,  sweeps  away  like  straws  the  obstacles  that  so 
long  held  it  back  only  to  swell  its  force  and  volume  at  last. 
But  to  the  student  the  period  of  preparation  is  the  more 
truly  interesting  and  critical  field  of  study.  It  was  ab- 
solutely necessary  that  the  American  people,  before  they 
would  seriously  think  of  undertaking  so  tremendous  a 
reformation  as  was  implied  in  the  substitution  of  public  for 
private  capitalism,  should  be  fully  convinced  not  by  argu- 
ment only,  but  by  abundant  bitter  experience  and  convinc- 
ing object  lessons,  that  no  remedy  for  the  evils  of  the  time 
less  complete  or  radical  would  suffice.  They  must  become 
convinced  by  numerous  experiments  that  private  capitalism 
had  evolved  to  a  point  w^iere  it  was  impossible  to  amend  it 
before  they  would  listen  to  the  proposition  to  end  it.  This 
painful  but  necessary  experience  the  people  were  gaining  dur- 
ing the  earlier  decades  of  the  struggle.  In  this  way  the  in- 
numerable defeats,  disajDpointments,  and  fiascoes  which  met 
their  every  effort  at  curbing  and  reforming  the  money 
power  during  the  seventies,  eighties,  and  early  nineties,  con- 
tributed far  more  than  as  many  victories  would  have  done 
to  the  magnitude  and  completeness  of  the  final  triumi3li 
of  the  people.  It  was  indeed  necessary  that  all  these 
things  should  come  to  pass  to  make  the  Revolution  pos- 
sible. It  was  necessary  that  the  system  of  private  and 
class  tyranny  called  private  capitalism  should  fill  up  tha 


330  EQUALITY. 

measure  of  its  iniquities  and  reveal  all  it  was  capable  of, 
as  the  irreconcilable  enemy  of  democracy,  the  foe  of  life 
and  liberty  and  human  happiness,  in  order  to  insure  that 
degree  of  momentum  to  the  coming"  uprising  against  it 
which  was  necessary  to  guarantee  its  complete  and  final  over- 
throw. Revolutions  which  start  too  soon  stop  too  soon,  and 
the  welfare  of  the  race  demanded  that  this  revolution  should 
not  cease,  nor  pause,  until  the  last  vestige  of  the  system  by 
which  men  usurped  power  over  the  lives  and  liberties 
of  their  fellows  tln^ough  economic  means  was  destroyed. 
Therefore  not  one  outrage,  not  one  act  of  oppression,  not 
one  exhibition  of  conscienceless  rapacity,  not  one  prostitu- 
tion of  power  on  the  part  of  Executive,  Legislature,  or  judici- 
ary, not  one  tear  of  patriotic  shame  over  the  degradation  of 
the  national  name,  not  one  blow  of  the  policeman's  blud- 
geon, not  a  single  bullet  or  bayonet  thrust  of  the  soldiery, 
could  have  been  spared.  Nothing  but  just  this  discipline 
of  failure,  disappointment,  and  defeat  on  the  part  of  the 
earlier  reformers  could  have  educated  the  people  to  the 
necessity  of  attacking  the  system  of  private  capitalism  in 
its  existence  instead  of  merely  in  its  particular  manifes- 
tations. 

"  We  reckon  the  beginning  of  the  second  part  of  the  revo- 
lutionary movement  to  which  we  give  the  name  of  the  co- 
herent or  rational  phase,  from  the  time  when  there  became 
apparent  a  clear  conception,  on  the  part  of  at  least  a  con- 
siderable body  of  the  people,  of  the  true  nature  of  the  issue 
as  one  between  the  rights  of  man  and  the  principle  of  irre- 
sponsible power  embodied  in  private  capitalism,  and  the 
realization  that  its  outcome,  if  the  people  were  to  triumph, 
must  be  the  establishment  of  a  wholly  new  economic  sys- 
tem which  should  be  based  upon  the  public  control  in  the 
public  interest  of  the  system  of  production  and  distribution 
hitherto  left  to  private  management." 

"  At  about  what  date,"  I  asked,  "  do  you  consider  that  the 
revolutionary  movement  began  to  pass  from  the  incoherent 
into  the  logical  phase  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  it  was  not  the  case  of 
an  immediate  outright  change  of  character,  but  only  of  the 
beginning  of  a  new  spirit  and  intelligence.     The  confusion 


SLOW  AT  FIRST  BUT   FAST  AT   LAST.  33 1 

and  incoherence  and  short-sightedness  of  the  first  period 
long  overlapped  the  time  Avhen  the  infusion  of  a  more  ra- 
tional spirit  and  adequate  ideal  began  to  appear,  but  from 
about  the  beginning  of  the  nineties  we  date  the  first  ap- 
pearance of  an  intelligent  purpose  in  the  revolutionary 
movement  and  the  beginning  of  its  development  from  a 
mere  formless  revolt  against  intolerable  conditions  into  a 
logical  and  self-conscious  evolution  toward  the  order  of 
to-day." 

''  It  seems  I  barely  missed  it." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  if  you  had  been  able  to  keep 
awake  only  a  year  or  two  longer  you  would  not  have  been 
so  wholly  surprised  by  our  industrial  system,  and  especially 
by  the  economic  equality  for  and  bj-  which  it  exists,  for 
within  a  couple  of  years  after  your  supx^osed  demise  the 
possibility  that  such  a  social  order  might  be  the  outcome 
of  the  existing  crisis  was  being  discussed  from  one  end  of 
America  to  the  other. 

"  Of  course,"  the  doctor  went  on,  "  the  idea  of  an  inte- 
grated economic  s^^stem  co-ordinating  the  efforts  of  all  for 
the  common  welfare,  which  is  the  basis  of  the  modern  state, 
is  as  old  as  philosophy.  As  a  theory  it  dates  back  to  Plato 
at  least,  and  nobody  knows  how  much  further,  for  it  is  a 
conception  of  the  most  natural  and  obvious  order.  Not, 
however,  until  popular  government  had  been  made  pos- 
sible by  the  diffusion  of  intelligence  was  the  world  ripe  for 
the  realization  of  such  a  form  of  society.  Until  that  time 
the  idea,  like  the  soul  waiting  for  a  fit  incarnation,  must 
remain  without  social  embodiment.  Selfish  rulers  thought 
of  the  masses  only  as  instruments  for  their  own  aggrandize- 
ment, and  if  they  had  interested  themselves  in  a  more  exact 
organization  of  industry  it  would  only  have  been  with  a  view 
of  making  that  organization  the  means  of  a  more  complete 
tyranny.  Not  till  the  masses  themselves  became  competent 
to  rule  was  a  serious  agitation  x^ossible  or  desirable  for  an 
economic  organization  on  a  co-operative  basis.  With  the 
first  stirrings  of  the  democratic  spirit  in  Europe  had  come 
the  beginning  of  earnest  discussion  as  to  the  feasibility  of 
such  a  social  order.  Already,  by  the  middle  of  the  century, 
this  agitation  in  the  Old  World  had  become,  to  discerning 


332  EQUALITY. 

eyes,  one  of  the  signs  of  the  times,  but  as  yet  America,  if  we 
except  the  brief  and  abortive  social  experiments  in  the 
forties,  had  remained  wholly  unresponsive  to  the  European 
movement. 

"  I  need  not  repeat  that  the  reason,  of  course,  was  the 
fact  that  tlie  economic  conditions  in  America  had  been 
more  satisfactory  to  the  masses  than  ever  before,  or  any- 
where else  in  the  world.  The  individualistic  method  of 
making-  a  living,  every  man  for  himself,  had  answered  the 
purpose  on  the  whole  so  well  that  the  people  did  not  care 
to  discuss  other  methods.  The  i^owerful  motive  neces- 
sary to  rouse  the  sluggish  and  habit-bound  minds  of  the 
masses  and  interest  them  in  a  new  and  revolutionary  set 
of  ideas  was  lacking.  Even  during  the  early  stage  of  the 
revolutionary  period  it  had  been  found  impossible  to  ob- 
tain any  hearing  for  the  notions  of  a  new  economic  order 
which  vieve  already  agitating  Europe.  It  was  not  till  the 
close  of  the  eighties  that  the  total  and  ridiculous  failure 
of  twenty  years  of  desperate  efforts  to  reform  the  abuses  of 
private  capitalism  had  prepared  the  American  .people  to 
give  serious  attention  to  the  idea  of  dispensing  with  the 
capitalist  altogether  by  a  public  organization  of  industry 
to  be  administered  like  other  common  affairs  in  the  com- 
mon interest. 

"  The  two  great  points  of  the  revolutionary  programme — 
the  principle  of  economic  equality  and  a  nationalized  indus- 
trial system  as  its  means  and  pledge — the  American  people 
were  peculiarly  adapted  to  understand  and  appreciate.  The 
lawyers  had  made  a  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  but 
the  true  American  constitution — the  one  written  on  the  peo- 
ple's hearts — had  always  remained  the  immortal  Declaration 
with  its  assertion  of  the  inalienable  equality  of  all  men.  As 
to  the  nationalization  of  industry,  while  it  involved  a  set 
of  consequences  which  would  completely  transform  society, 
the  principle  on  which  the  proposition  was  based,  and  to 
which  it  api>ealed  for  justification,  was  not  new  to  Americans 
in  any  sense,  but,  on  the  contrary,  was  merely  a  logical  de- 
velopment of  the  idea  of  popular  self-government  on  which 
the  American  system  was  founded.  The  application  of  this 
principle  to  the  regulation  of  the  economic  administration 


SLOW  AT   FIRST  BUT  FAST  AT  LAST.  333 

was  indeed  a  use  of  it  which  was  historically  new,  but  it 
was  one  so  absolutely  and  obviously  implied  in  the  content 
of  the  idea  that,  as  soon  as  it  was  proposed,  it  was  impos- 
sible that  any  sincere  democrat  should  not  be  astonished 
that  so  plain  and  common-sense  a  corollary  of  popular  gov- 
ernment had  waited  so  long  for  recognition.  The  apostles 
of  a  collective  administration  of  the  economic  system  in  the 
common  interest  had  in  Europe  a  twofold  task :  first,  to 
teach  the  general  doctrine  of  the  absolute  right  of  the 
people  to  govern,  and  then  to  show  the  economic  applica- 
tion of  that  right.  To  Americans,  however,  it  was  only 
necessary  to  point  out  an  obvious  although  hitherto  over- 
looked application  of  a  principle  already  fully  accepted  as 
an  axiom. 

"  The  acceptance  of  the  new  ideal  did  not  imply  merely 
a  change  in  specific  programmes,  but  a  total  facing  about 
of  the  revolutionary  movement.  It  had  thus  far  been  an 
attempt  to  resist  the  new  economic  conditions  being  imposed 
by  the  capitalists  by  bringing  back  the  former  economic 
conditions  through  the  restoration  of  free  competition 
as  it  had  existed  before  the  war.  This  was  an  effort  of  neces- 
sity hopeless,  seeing  that  the  economic  changes  which  had 
taken  place  were  merely  the  necessary  evolution  of  any 
system  of  private  capitalism,  and  could  not  be  successfully 
resisted  while  the  system  was  retained. 

" '  Face  about ! '  was  the  new  word  of  command.  '  Fight 
forward,  not  backward  !  March  with  the  course  of  eco- 
nomic evolution,  not  against  it.  The  competitive  system 
can  never  be  restored,  neither  is  it  worthy  of  restoration, 
having  been  at  best  an  immoral,  wasteful,  brutal  scramble 
for  existence.  New  issues  demand  new  answers.  It  is  in 
vain  to  pit  the  moribund  system  of  competition  against 
the  young  giant  of  private  monopoly;  it  must  rather  be 
opposed  by  the  greater  giant  of  public  monopoly.  The 
consolidation  of  business  in  private  interests  must  be  met 
with  greater  consolidation  in  the  public  interest,  the  trust 
and  the  syndicate  with  the  city,  State,  and  nation,  capi- 
talism with  nationalism.  The  capitalists  have  destroyed 
the  competitive  system.  Do  not  try  to  restore  it,  but  rather 
thank   them    for   the  work,   if    not    the   motive,    and   set 


334  EQUALITY. 

about,  not  to  rebuild  the  old  village  of  hovels,  but  to  rear 
on  the  cleared  place  the  temj^le  humanity  so  long  has 
waited  for.' 

"  By  the  light  of  the  new  teaching  the  people  began  to 
recognize  that  the  strait  place  into  Avhicli  the  republic  had 
come  was  but  the  narrow  and  frowning  portal  of  a  future 
of  universal  welfare  and  happiness  such  as  only  the  Hebrew 
prophets  had  colors  strong  enough  to  paint. 

"  By  the  new  philosophy  the  issue  which  had  arisen  be- 
tween the  people  and  the  plutocracy  was  seen  not  to  be  a 
strange  and  unaccountable  or  deplorable  event,  but  a  neces- 
sary phase  in  the  evolution  of  a  democratic  society  in  pass- 
ing from  a  lower  to  an  incomparably  higher  plane,  an  issue 
therefore  to  be  welcomed  not  shunned,  to  be  forced  not 
evaded,  seeing  that  its  outcome  in  the  existing  state  of  hu- 
man enlightenment  and  world-wide  democratic  sentiment 
could  not  be  doubtful.  By  the  road  by  which  every  repub- 
lic had  toiled  upward  from  the  barren  lowlands  of  early 
hardship  and  poverty,  just  at  the  point  where  the  steepness 
of  the  hill  had  been  overcome  and  a  prospect  opened  of 
pleasant  uplands  of  wealth  and  prosperity,  a  sphinx  had 
ever  stood,  propounding  the  riddle,  '  How  shall  a  state  com- 
bine the  preservation  of  democratic  equality  with  the  in- 
crease of  wealth  ? '  Simple  indeed  had  been  the  answer, 
for  it  was  only  needful  that  the  people  should  so  order  their 
system  of  economy  that  wealth  should  be  equally  shared 
as  it  increased,  in  order  that,  however  great  the  increase,  it 
should  in  no  way  interfere  with  the  equalities  of  the  people  ; 
for  the  great  justice  of  equality  is  the  well  of  political  life 
everlasting  for  peoples,  whereof  if  a  nation  drink  it  may 
live  forever.  Nevertheless,  no  republic  before  had  been 
able  to  answer  the  riddle,  and  therefore  their  bones  whit- 
ened the  hilltop,  and  not  one  had  ever  survived  to  enter 
on  the  pleasant  land  in  view.  But  the  time  had  now  come 
in  the  evolution  of  human  intelligence  when  the  riddle  so 
often  asked  and  never  answered  was  to  be  answered  aright, 
the  sphinx  made  an  end  of,  and  the  road  freed  foi^ever  for 
all  the  nations. 

"  It  was  this  note  of  perfect  assurance,  of  confident  and 
boundless  hope,  which  distinguished  the  new  propaganda, 


SLOW  AT   FIRST  BUT  FAST  AT   LAST.  335 

and  was  the  more  commanding  and  uplifting-  from  its  con- 
trast with  the  blank  pessimism  on  the  one  side  of  the  capi- 
talist party,  and  the  petty  aims,  class  interests,  short  vision. 
and  timid  spirit  of  the  reformers  who  had  hitherto  opposed 
them. 

"  With  a  doctrine  to  preach  of  so  compelling  force  and 
beauty,  promising  such  good  things  to  men  in  so  great 
want  of  them,  it  might  seem  that  it  would  require  but  a 
brief  time  to  rally  the  whole  people  to  its  support.  And  so 
it  would  doubtless  have  been  if  the  machinery  of  public  in- 
formation and  direction  had  been  in  the  hands  of  the  re- 
formers or  in  any  hands  that  were  impartial,  instead  of 
being,  as  it  w^as,  almost  wholly  in  those  of  the  capitalists. 
In  previous  i)eriods  the  newspapers  had  not  rej)resented 
large  investments  of  capital,  having  been  quite  crude  affairs. 
For  this  very  reason,  however,  they  were  more  likely  to  rep- 
resent the  popular  feeling.  In  the  latter  part  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  a  great  newspaper  with  large  circulation 
necessarily  required  a  vast  investment  of  capital,  and  con- 
sequently the  important  newsjDapers  of  the  country  w^ere 
owned  by  capitalists  and  of  course  carried  on  in  the  owners' 
interests.  Except  when  the  capitalists  in  control  chanced 
to  be  men  of  high  principle,  the  great  papers  were  there- 
fore upon  the  side  of  the  existing  order  of  things  and  against 
the  revolutionary  movement.  These  papers  monopolized 
the  facilities  of  gathering  and  disseminating  public  intel- 
ligence and  thereby  exercised  a  censorship,  almost  as  effect- 
ive as  that  prevailing  at  the  same  time  in  Russia  or  Turkey, 
over  the  greater  pai't  of  the  information  w^hich  reached  the 
people. 

"  Not  only  the  press  but  the  religious  instruction  of  the 
people  was  under  the  control  of  the  capitalists.  The  churches 
were  the  pensioners  of  the  rich  and  well-to-do  tenth  of  the 
people,  and  abjectly  dependent  on  them  for  the  means  of 
carrying  on  and  extending  their  work.  The  universities  and 
institutions  of  higher  learning  w^ere  in  like  manner  har- 
nessed to  the  plutocratic  chariot  by  golden  chains.  Like 
the  churches,  they  were  dependent  for  support  and  pros- 
perity upon  the  benefactions  of  the  rich,  and  to  offend 
tnem  would  have  been  suicidal.    Moreover,  the  rich  and 


336    .  EQUALITY. 

well-to-do  tentli  of  the  i)opulation  was  the  only  class 
which  could  afford  to  send  children  to  institutions  of 
the  secondary  education,  and  they  naturally  preferred 
schools  teaching  a  doctrine  comfortable  to  the  possessing 
class. 

"  If  the  reformers  had  been  put  in  possession  of  press, 
pulpit,  and  university,  which  the  capitalists  controlled, 
whereby  to  set  home  their  doctrine  to  the  heart  and  mind 
and  conscience  of  the  nation,  they  would  have  converted 
and  carried  the  country  in  a  month. 

"  Feeling  how  quickly  the  day  would  be  theirs  if  they 
could  but  reach  the  people,  it  was  natural  that  they  should 
chafe  bitterly  at  the  delay,  confronted  as  they  were  by  the 
spectacle  of  humanity  daily  crucified  afresh  and  enduring 
an  illimitable  anguish  which  they  knew  was  needless.  Who 
indeed  would  not  have  been  impatient  in  their  place,  and 
cried  as  they  did,  '  How  long,  O  Lord,  how  long  ? '  To  men 
so  situated,  each  day's  postponement  of  the  great  deliverance 
might  well  have  seemed  like  a  century.  Involved  as  they 
were  in  the  din  and  dust  of  innumerable  petty  combats,  it 
was  as  difiicult  for  them  as  for  soldiers  in  the  midst  of  a 
battle  to  obtain  an  idea  of  the  general  course  of  the  con- 
flict and  the  operation  of  the  forces  which  would  determine 
its  issue.  To  us,  however,  as  we  look  back,  the  rapidity  of 
the  process  by  which  during  the  nineties  the  American 
people  were  won  over  to  the  revolutionary  programme 
seems  almost  miraculous,  while  as  to  the  ultimate  result 
there  was,  of  course,  at  no  time  the  slightest  ground  of 
question, 

"  From  about  the  beginning  of  the  second  phase  of  the 
revolutionary  movement,  the  literature  of  the  times  begins 
to  reflect  in  the  most  extraordinary  manner  a  wholly  new 
spirit  of  radical  protest  against  the  injustices  of  the  .social 
order.  Not  only  in  the  serious  journals  and  books  of 
public  discussion,  but  in  fiction  and  in  belles-lettres,  the 
subject  of  social  reform  becomes  prominent  and  almost 
commanding.  The  figures  that  have  come  down  to  us  of 
the  amazing  circulation  of  some  of  the  books  devoted  to  the 
advocacy  of  a  radical  social  reorganization  are  almost  enough 
in  themselves  to  explain  the  revolution.    The  antislavery 


SLOW  AT  FIRST  BUT   FAST  AT  LAST.  337 

movement  liad  one  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin :  the  anticapitalist 
movement  had  many. 

"  A  particiUavly  significant  fact  was  the  extraordinary 
unanimity  and  enthusiasm  with  which  the  purely  agricul- 
tural communities  of  the  far  West  welcomed  the  new  gospel 
of  a  new  and  equal  economic  system.  In  the  past,  govern- 
ments had  always  been  prepared  for  revolutionary  agitation 
among  the  proletarian  wage-earners  of  the  cities,  and  had 
always  counted  on  the  stolid  conservatism  of  the  agricul- 
tural class  for  the  force  to  keep  the  inflammable  artisans 
down.  But  in  this  revolution  it  was  the  agriculturists 
who  were  in  the  van.  This  fact  alone  should  have  suffi- 
ciently foreshadowed  the  swift  course  and  certain  issue  of 
the  struggle.  At  the  beginning  of  the  battle  the  capitalists 
had  lost  their  reserves. 

''At  about  the  beginning  of  the  nineties  the  revolution- 
ary movement  first  prominently  appears  in  the  political 
field.  For  twenty  years  after  the  close  of  the  civil  war  the 
surviving  animosities  between  North  and  South  mainly  de- 
termined party  lines,  and  this  fact,  together  with  the  lack  of 
agreement  on  a  definite  policy,  had  hitherto  prevented  the 
forces  of  industrial  discontent  from  making  any  striking 
political  demonstration.  But  toward  the  close  of  the  eighties 
the  diminished  bitterness  of  feeling  between  North  and  South 
left  the  people  free  to  align  themselves  on  the  new  issue, 
which  had  been  steadily  looming  up  ever  since  the  war,  as 
the  irrepressible  conflict  of  the  near  future — the  struggle 
to  the  death  between  democracy  and  plutocracy,  between 
the  rights  of  man  and  the  tyranny  of  capital  in  irresponsi- 
ble hands. 

"  Although  the  idea  of  the  public  conduct  of  economic 
enterprises  by  public  agencies  had  never  previously  attracted 
attention  or  favor  in  America,  yet  already  in  1890,  almost  as 
soon  as  it  began  to  be  talked  about,  political  parties  favor- 
ing its  application  to  important  branches  of  business  had 
polled  heavy  votes.  In  1892  a  party,  organized  in  nearly 
every  State  in  the  Union,  cast  a  million  votes  in  favor  of 
nationalizing  at  least  the  railroads,  telegraphs,  banking  sys- 
tem, and  other  monopolized  businesses.  Two  years  later  the 
same  party  showed  large  gains,  and  in  1896  its  platform  was 


338  EQUALITY. 

substantially  adopted  hj  one  of  the  great  historic  parties 
of  the  country,  and  the  nation  divided  nearly  equally  on 
the  issue. 

'*  The  terror  which  this  demonstration  of  the  strength  of 
the  party  of  social  discontent  caused  among  the  possessing 
class  seems  at  this  distance  rather  remarkable,  seeing  that 
its  demands,  while  attacking  many  important  capitalist 
abuses,  did  not  as  yet  directly  assail  the  principle  of  the  pri- 
vate control  of  capital  as  the  root  of  the  whole  social  evil. 
No  doubt,  what  alarmed  the  capitalists  even  more  than  the 
specific  propositions  of  the  social  insurgents  were  the  signs 
of  a  settled  popular  exasperation  against  them  and  all  their 
works,  which  indicated  that  what  was  now  called  for  was 
but  the  beginning  of  what  would  be  demanded  later.  The 
antislavery  party  had  not  begun  with  demanding  the  aboli- 
tion of  slavery,  but  merely  its  limitation.  The  slaveholders 
were  not,  however,  deceived  as  to  the  significance  of  the 
new  political  portent,  and  the  capitalists  would  have  been 
less  wise  in  their  generation  than  their  predecessors  had 
they  not  seen  in  the  political  situation  the  beginning  of  a 
confrontation  of  the  people  and  the  capitalists — the  masses 
and  the  classes,  as  the  expression  of  the  day  was — v.'hich 
threatened  an  economic  and  social  revolution  in  the  near 
future." 

''  It  seems  to  me,"  I  said,  "  that  by  this  stage  of  the  revo- 
lutionary movement  American  capitalists  capable  of  a  dis- 
passionate view  of  the  situation  ought  to  have  seen  the  neces- 
sity of  making  concessions  if  they  were  to  preserve  any  part 
of  their  advantages." 

"  If  they  had,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  they  would  have  been 
the  first  beneficiaries  of  a  tyranny  who  in  presence  of  a  ris- 
ing flood  of  revolution  ever  realized  its  force  or  thought  of 
making  concessions  until  it  was  hopelessly  too  late.  You 
see,  tyrants  are  always  materialists,  while  the  forces  behind 
great  revolutions  are  moral.  That  is  why  the  tyrants  never 
foresee  their  fate  till  it  is  too  late  to  avert  it." 

"  We  ought  to  be  in  our  chairs  pretty  soon,"  said  Edith. 
"  I  don't  want  Julian  to  miss  the  opening  scene." 

"There  are  a  few  minutes  yet,"  said  the  doctor,  "and 
seeing  that  I  have  been  rather  unintentionally  led  into  giv- 


SLOW  AT   FIRST  BUT   FAST  AT  LAST.  339 

ing"  tliis  sort  of  outline  sketch  of  the  course  of  tlie  Revolu- 
tion, I  want  to  say  a  word  about  tiie  extraordinary  access  of 
popular  enthusiasm  which  made  a  short  story  of  its  later 
stages,  especially  as  it  is  that  i^eriod  with  which  the  play 
deals  that  we  are  to  attend. 

"  There  had  been  many,  you  must  know,  Julian,  who, 
while  admitting-  that  a  s^'stem  of  co-operation  must  eventu- 
ally take  the  place  of  i^rivate  capitalism  in  America  and 
everywhere,  had  expected  that  the  process  would  be  a  slow 
and  gradual  one,  extending"  over  several  decades,  perhaps 
half  a  century,  or  even  more.  Probably  that  was  the  more 
general  oi^inion.  But  those  who  held  it  failed  to  take  ac- 
count of  the  popular  enthusiasm  which  would  certainly  take 
jDossession  of  the  movement  and  drive  it  irresistibly  forward 
from  the  moment  that  the  prospect  of  its  success  became 
fairly  clear  to  the  masses.  Undoubtedly,  when  the  plan  of 
a  nationalized  industrial  sj'stem,  and  an  equal  sharing  of 
results,  with  its  promise  of  the  abolition  of  poverty  and  the 
reign  of  universal  comfort,  w^as  first  presented  to  the  people, 
the  very  greatness  of  the  salvation  it  offered  operated  to 
hinder  its  acceptance.  It  seemed  too  good  to  be  true.  With 
difficulty  the  masses,  sodden  in  misery  and  inured  to  hope- 
lessness, had  been  able  to  believe  that  in  heaven  there  would 
be  no  })oor,  but  that  it  was  possible  here  and  now  in  this 
everyday  America  to  establish  such  an  earthly  paradise  was 
too  much  to  believe. 

"  But  gradually,  as  the  revolutionary  propaganda  diffused 
a  knowledge  of  the  clear  and  unquestionable  grounds  on 
w^hich  this  great  assurance  rested,  and  as  the  growing  ma- 
jorities of  the  revolutionary  party  convinced  the  most 
doubtful  that  the  hour  of  its  triumph  was  at  hand,  the  hope 
of  the  multitude  grew  into  confidence,  and  confidence 
flamed  into  a  resistless  enthusiasm.  By  the  very  magnitude 
of  the  i3romise  which  at  first  appalled  them  they  w^ere  now 
transported.  An  impassioned  eagerness  seized  upon  them 
to  enter  into  the  delectable  land,  so  that  they  found  every 
day's,  every  hour's  delay  intolerable.  The  young  said,  '  Let 
us  make  haste,  and  go  in  to  the  promised  land  while  we  are 
young,  that  w^e  may  know  what  living  is  ' ;  and  the  old  said, 
'Let  us  go  in  ere  we  die,  that  we  may  close  our  eyes  in 


34:0  EQUALITY. 

peace,  knowing  that  it  will  be  well  with  our  cliildren  after 
us.'  The  leaders  and  pioneers  of  the  Ke volution,  after 
having  for  so  many  years  exhorted  and  appealed  to  a 
people  for  the  most  part  indifferent  or  incredulous,  now 
found  themselves  caught  up  and  borne  onward  by  a  mighty 
wave  of  enthusiasm  which  it  was  impossible  for  them  to 
check,  and  difficult  for  them  to  guide,  had  not  the  way  been 
so  plain. 

"  Then,  to  cap  the  climax,  as  if  the  poi)ular  mind  were 
not  already  in  a  sufficiently  exalted  frame,  came  '  The 
Great  Eevival,'  touching  this  enthusiasm  with  religious 
emotion." 

"  We  used  to  have  what  were  called  revivals  of  religion 
in  my  day,"  I  said,  ''  sometimes  quite  extensive  ones.  Was 
this  of  the  same  nature  ? " 

"  Scarcely,"  rejDlied  the  doctor.  "  The  Great  Eevival  was 
a  tide  of  enthusiasm  for  the  social,  not  the  personal,  salva- 
tion, and  for  the  establishment  in  brotherly  love  of  the 
kingdom  of  God  on  earth  which  Christ  bade  men  hope  and 
work  for.  Ic  was  the  general  awakening  of  the  people  of 
America  in  the  closing  years  of  the  last  century  to  the  pro- 
foundly ethical  and  truly  religious  character  and  claims  of 
the  movement  for  an  industrial  system  which  should  guar- 
antee the  economic  equality  of  all  the  people. 

"Nothing,  surely,  could  be  more  self-evident  than  the 
strictly  Christian  inspiration  of  the  idea  of  this  guarantee. 
It  contemplated  nothing  less  than  a  literal  fulfillment,  on 
a  complete  social  scale,  of  Christ's  inculcation  that  all 
should  feel  the  same  solicitude  and  make  the  same  effort  for 
the  welfare  of  others  as  for  their  own.  The  first  effect  of 
such  a  solicitude  must  needs  be  to  prompt  effort  to  bring 
about  an  equal  material  provision  for  all,  as  the  primary 
condition  of  welfare.  One  would  certainly  think  that  a 
nominally  Christian  people  having  some  familiarity  with 
the  New  Testament  would  have  needed  no  one  to  tell  them 
these  things,  but  that  they  would  have  recognized  on  its 
first  statement  that  the  progi'amme  of  the  revolutionists  was 
simply  a  paraphrase  of  the  golden  rule  expressed  in  eco- 
nomic and  political  terms.  One  would  have  said  that  what- 
ever other  members  of  the  community  might  do,  the  Chris- 


SLOW  AT   FIRST   BUT  FAST   AT  LAST.  Sil 

tian  believers  would  at  once  have  flocked  to  the  support  of 
such  a  movement  with  their  whole  heart,  soul,  mind,  and 
might.  That  they  were  so  slow  to  do  so  must  be  ascribed 
to  the  wrong  teaching  and  non-teaching  of  a  class  of  per- 
sons whose  express  duty,  above  all  other  persons  and  classes, 
was  to  prompt  them  to  that  action — namely,  the  Christian 
clergy. 

"For  many  ages — almost,  indeed,  from  the  beginning  of 
the  Christian  era — the  churches  had  turned  their  backs  on 
Christ's  ideal  of  a  kingdom  of  God  to  be  realized  on  earth 
by  the  adoption  of  the  law  of  mutual  helpfulness  and  fra- 
ternal love.  Giving  up  the  regeneration  of  human  society 
in  this  world  as  a  hopeless  undertaking,  the  clergy,  in  the 
name  of  the  author  of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  had  taught  the 
people  not  to  expect  God's  will  to  be  done  on  earth.  Directly 
reversing  the  attitude  of  Christ  toward  society  as  an  evil 
and  perverse  order  of  things  needing  to  be  made  over,  they 
had  made  themselves  the  bulwarks  and  defenses  of  existing 
social  and  political  institutions,  and  exerted  their  whole  in- 
fluence to  discourage  popular  aspirations  for  a  more  just 
and  equal  order.  In  the  Old  World  they  had  been  the 
champions  and  apologists  of  power  and  privilege  and 
vested  rights  against  every  movement  for  freedom  and 
equality.  In  resisting  the  upward  strivings  of  their  people, 
the  kings  and  emperors  had  always  found  the  clergy  more 
useful  servants  than  the  soldiers  and  the  police.  In  the 
New  World,  when  royalty,  in  the  act  of  abdication,  had 
passed  the  scepter  behind  its  back  to  capitalism,  the  ecclesi- 
astical bodies  had  transferred  their  allegiance  to  the  money 
power,  and  as  formerly  they  had  preached  the  divine  right 
of  kings  to  rule  their  fellow-men,  now  preached  the  divine 
right  of  ruling  and  using  others  which  inhered  in  the  pos- 
session of  accumulated  or  inherited  wealth,  and  the  duty  of 
the  people  to  submit  without  murmuring  to  the  exclusive 
appropriation  of  all  good  things  by  the  rich. 

"The  historical  attitude  of  the  churches  as  the  cham- 
pions and  apologists  of  power  and  privilege  in  every  contro- 
versy with  the  rights  of  man  and  the  idea  of  equality  had 
always  been  a  prodigious  scandal,  and  in  every  revolution- 
ary crisis  had  not  failed  to  cost  them  great  losses  in  public 
23 


342  EQUALITY. 

respect  and  popular  following-.  Inasmuch  as  the  now  im- 
pending* crisis  between  the  full  assertion  of  human  equality 
and  the  existence  of  private  capitalism  was  incomparably 
the  most  radical  issue  of  the  sort  that  had  ever  arisen,  the 
attitude  of  the  churches  was  likely  to  have  a  critical  effect 
upon  tlieir  future.  Should  they  make  the  mistake  of  placing 
themselves  upon  the  unpopular  side  in  this  tremendous  con- 
troversy, it  would  be  for  them  a  colossal  if  not  a  fatal  mis- 
take—one that  would  threaten  the  loss  of  their  last  hold  as 
organizations  on  the  hearts  and  minds  of  the  people.  On 
the  other  hand,  had  the  leaders  of  the  churches  been  able 
to  discern  the  full  significance  of  the  great  turning  of  the 
world's  heart  toward  Christ's  ideal  of  human  society,  which 
marked  the  closing  of  the  nineteenth  century,  they  might 
have  hoped  by  taking  the  right  side  to  rehabilitate  the 
churches  in  the  esteem  and  respect  of  the  world,  as,  after 
all,  despite  so  many  mistakes,  the  faithful  representatives 
of  tlie  spirit  and  doctrine  of  Christianity.  Some  there  were 
indeed — yes,  many,  in  the  aggregate — among  the  clergy  who 
did  see  this  and  sought  desperately  to  show  it  to  their  fel- 
lows, but,  blinded  by  clouds  of  vain  traditions,  and  bent 
before  the  tremendous  pressure  of  capitalism,  the  ecclesias- 
tical bodies  in  general  did  not,  with  these  noble  exceptions, 
awake  to  their  great  opportunity  until  it  had  passed  by. 
Other  bodies  of  learned  men  there  were  which  equally  failed 
to  discern  the  irresistible  force  and  divine  sanction  of  the 
tidal  wave  of  humane  enthusiasm  that  was  sweeping  over 
the  earth,  and  to  see  that  it  was  destined  to  leave  behind  it 
a  transformed  and  regenerated  world.  But  the  failure  of 
these  others,  however  lamentable,  to  discern  the  nature  of 
the  crisis,  was  not  like  the  failure  of  the  Christian  clergy,  for 
it  was  their  express  calling  and  business  to  preach  and  teach 
the  application  to  human  relations  of  the  Golden  Rule  of 
equal  treatment  for  all  which  the  Revolution  came  to  es- 
tablish, and  to  watch  for  the  coming  of  this  very  kingdom 
of  brotherly  love,  Avhose  advent  they  met  w^ith  anathemas. 

"  The  reformers  of  that  time  were  most  bitter  against  the 
clergy  for  their  double  treason  to  humanity  and  Christian- 
ity, in  opposing  instead  of  supporting  the  Revolution ;  but 
time  has  tempered  harsh  judgments  of  every  sort,  and  it  is 


SLOW  AT   FIRST   BUT   FAST   AT   LAST.  343 

rather  with  deep  pity  than  with  indignation  that  we  look 
back  on  these  unfortunate  men,  who  will  ever  retain  the 
tragic  distinction  of  having-  missed  the  grandest  opportunity 
of  leadership  ever  offered  to  men.  Why  add  reproach  to 
the  burden  of  such  a  failure  as  that  ? 

"  While  the  influence  of  ecclesiastical  authority  in  Amer- 
ica, on  account  of  the  growth  of  intelligence,  had  at  this 
time  greatly  shrunken  from  former  proportions,  the  gener- 
ally unfavorable  or  negative  attitude  of  the  churches  toward 
the  programme  of  equality  had  told  heavily  to  hold  back 
the  popular  support  which  the  movement  might  reasonably 
have  expected  from  professedly  Christian  people.  It  was, 
however,  only  a  question  of  time,  and  the  educating  influ- 
ence of  public  discussion,  when  the  people  would  become  ac- 
quainted for  themselves  with  the  merits  of  the  subject.  '  The 
Great  Revival '  followed,  when,  in  the  course  of  this  process 
of  education,  the  masses  of  the  nation  reached  the  convic- 
tion that  the  revolution  against  which  the  clergy  had  warned 
them  as  unchristian  was,  in  fact,  the  most  essentially  and 
intensely  Christian  movement  that  had  ever  appealed  to 
men  since  Christ  called  his  disciples,  and  as  such  impera- 
tively commanded  the  strongest  support  of  every  believer  or 
admirer  of  Christ's  doctrine. 

"The  American  people  appear  to  have  been,  on  the 
whole,  the  most  intelligently  religious  of  the  large  jDopula- 
tions  of  the  world — as  religion  was  understood  at  that  time 
— and  the  most  generally  influenced  by  the  sentiment  of 
Christianity.  When  the  people  came  to  recognize  that  the 
ideal  of  a  world  of  equal  welfare,  which  had  been  repre- 
sented to  them  by  the  clergy  as  a  dangerous  delusion,  was 
no  other  than  the  very  dream  of  Christ ;  when  they  realized 
that  the  hope  which  led  on  the  advocates  of  the  new  order 
was  no  baleful  ig7iis  fatuus,  as  the  churches  had  taught, 
but  nothing  less  nor  other  than  the  Star  of  Bethlehem,  it  is 
not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  impulse  which  the  revolu- 
tionary movement  received  should  have  been  overwhelming. 
From  that  time  on  it  assumes  more  and  more  the  character 
of  a  crusade,  the  first  of  the  many  so-called  crusades  of  history 
which  had  a  valid  and  adequate  title  to  that  name  and  right 
to  make  the  cross  its  emblem.    As  the  conviction  took  hold 


344  EQUALITY. 

on  the  always  religious  masses  that  the  plan  of  an  equalized 
human  welfare  was  nothing  less  than  the  divine  design,  and 
that  in  seeking  their  own  highest  happiness  by  its  adoption 
they  were  also  fulfilling  God's  purpose  for  the  race,  the 
spirit  of  the  Revolution  became  a  religious  enthusiasn.  As 
to  the  preaching  of  Peter  the  Hermit,  so  now  once  more  the 
masses  responded  to  the  preaching  of  the  reformers  with  the 
exultant  cry,  '  God  wills  it ! '  and  none  doubted  any  longer 
that  the  vision  would  come  to  pass.  So  it  was  that  the 
Eevolution,  which  had  begun  its  course  under  the  ban  of 
the  churches,  was  carried  to  its  consummation  upon  a  wave 
of  moral  and  religious  emotion." 

"  But  what  became  of  the  churches  and  the  clergy  when 
the  people  found  out  what  blind  guides  they  had  been  ? ''  I 
asked. 

"  No  doubt,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  it  must  have  seemed  to 
them  som-ething  like  the  Judgment  Day  when  their  flocks 
challenged  them  with  open  Bibles  and  demanded  why  they 
had  hid  the  Gospel  all  these  ages  aud  falsified  the  oracles  of 
God  which  they  had  claimed  to  interpret.  But  so  far  as 
appears,  the  joyous  exultation  of  the  people  over  the  great 
discovery  that  liberty,  equality,  and  fraternity  were  nothing 
less  than  the  i^ractical  meaning  and  content  of  Christ's  reli- 
gion seems  to  have  left  no  room  in  their  heart  for  bitter- 
ness toward  any  class.  The  world  had  received  a  crowning 
demonstration  that  was  to  remain  conclusive  to  all  time  of 
the  untrustworthiness  of  ecclesiastical  guidance;  that  was 
all.  The  clergy  who  had  failed  in  their  office  of  guides  had 
not  done  so,  it  is  needless  to  say,  because  they  were  not  as 
good  as  other  men,  but  on  account  of  the  hopeless  falsity 
of  their  position  as  the  economic  dependents  of  those  they 
assumed  to  lead.  As  soon  as  the  great  revival  had  fairly 
begun  they  threw  themselves  into  it  as  eagerly  as  any  of 
the  people,  but  not  now  with  any  pretensions  of  leadership. 
They  followed  the  people  whom  they  might  have  led. 

"  From  the  great  revival  we  date  the  beginning  of  the  era 
of  modern  religion — a  religion  which  has  dispensed  with  the 
rites  and  ceremonies,  creeds  and  dogmas,  and  banished  from 
this  life  fear  and  concern  for  the  meaner  self ;  a  religion  of 
life  and  conduct  dominated  by  an  impassioned  sense  of  the 


SLOW  AT   FIKST   BUT   FAST   AT   LAST.  345 

solidarity  of  humanity  and  of  man  with  God ;  the  religion 
of  a  race  that  knows  itself  divine  and  feai-s  no  evil,  either 
now  or  hereafter." 

"  I  need  not  ask,"  I  said,  "  as  to  any  subsequent  stages  of 
the  Revolution,  for  I  fancy  its  consummation  did  not  tarry 
long  after  '  The  Great  Revival.'  " 

°  That  was  indeed  the  culminating  impulse,"  replied  the 
doctor  ;  "  but  while  it  lent  a  momentum  to  the  movement  for 
the  immediate  realization  of  an  equality  of  welfare  which 
no  obstacle  could  have  resisted,  it  did  its  work,  in  fact,  not 
so  much   by  breaking  down  opposition  as   by  melting  it 
away.     The  capitalists,  as  you  w^io  were  one  of  them  scarce- 
ly need  to  be  told,  were  not  persons  of  a  more  depraved 
dispcsition  than  other  people,  but  merely,  like  other  classes, 
what  the  economic  system  had  made  them.     Having  like 
passions  and  sensibilities  with  other  men,  they  were  as  in- 
capable of  standing  out  against  the  contagion  of  the  enthu- 
siasm of  humanity,  the  passion  of  pity,  and  the  compulsion 
of  humane  tenderness  w^hich  The  Great  Revival  had  aroused, 
as  any  other  class  of  people.     From  the  time  that  the  sense 
of  the  people  came  generally  to  recognize  that  the  fight  of 
the  existing  order  to  prevent  the  new  order  was  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  controversy  between  the  almighty 
dollar  and  the  Almighty  God,  there  was  substantially  but 
one  side  to  it.     A  bitter  minority  of  the  capitalist  party  and 
its  supporters  seems  indeed   to   have  continued  its  outcry 
against  the  Revolution  till  the  end,  but  it  w^as  of  little  im- 
portance.    The  greater  and  all  the  better  part  of  the  capital- 
ists joined  with  the  people  in  completing  the  installation  of 
the  new  order  which  all  had  now  come  to  see  was  to  re- 
dound to  the  benefit  of  all  alike." 
"  And  there  w^as  no  war  ?  " 

"  War !  Of  course  not.  Who  was  there  to  fight  on  the 
other  side  ?  It  is  odd  how  many  of  the  early  reformers  seem 
to  have  anticipated  a  w^ar  before  private  capitalism  could  be 
overthrown.  They  were  constantly  referring  to  the  civil 
war  in  the  United  States  and  to  the  French  Revolution  as 
precedents  which  justified  their  fear,  but  really  those  were 
not  analogous  cases.  In  the  controversy  over  slavery,  two 
geographical  sections,  mutually  impenetrable  to  each  other's 


346  EQUALITY. 

ideas  were  opposed  and  war  was  inevitable.  In  the  French 
Revolution  there  would  have  been  no  bloodshed  in  France 
but  for  the  interference  of  the  neighboring  nations  with 
their  brutal  kings  and  brutish  populations.  The  peaceful 
outcome  of  the  great  Revolution  in  America  was,  moreover, 
potently  favored  by  the  lack  as  yet  of  deep  class  distinc- 
tions, and  consequently  of  rooted  class  hatred.  Their  growth 
was  indeed  beginning  to  proceed  at  an  alarming  rate,  but 
the  process  had  not  yet  gone  far  or  deep  and  was  ineffectual 
to  resist  the  glow  of  social  enthusiasm  which  in  the  cul- 
minating years  of  the  Revolution  blended  the  whole  nation 
in  a  common  faith  and  purpose. 

"  You  must  not  fail  to  bear  in  mind  that  the  great  Revo- 
lution, as  it  came  in  America,  was  not  a  revolution  at  all 
in  the  political  sense  in  which  all  former  revolutions  in  the 
popular  interest  had  been.  In  all  these  instances  the  people, 
after  making  up  their  minds  what  they  wanted  changed, 
had  to  overthrow  the  Government  and  seize  the  power  in  or- 
der to  change  it.  But  in  a  democratic  state  like  America  the 
Revolution  was  practically  done  when  the  people  had  made 
up  their  minds  that  it  was  for  their  interest.  There  was  no 
one  to  dispute  their  power  and  right  to  do  their  will  when 
once  resolved  on  it.  The  Revolution  as  regards  America 
and  in  other  countries,  in  proportion  as  their  governments 
were  popular,  was  more  like  the  trial  of  a  case  in  court  than 
a  revolution  of  the  traditional  blood-and-thunder  sort.  The 
court  was  the  people,  and  the  only  way  that  either  contest- 
ant could  win  was  by  con  vicing  the  court,  from  which  there 
was  no  appeal. 

"So  far  as  the  stage  properties  of  the  traditional  revo- 
lution were  concerned,  plots,  conspiracies,  powder-smoke, 
blood  and  thunder,  any  one  of  the  ten  thousand  squabbles 
in  the  mediaeval,  Italian,  and  Flemish  towns,  furnishes  far 
more  material  to  the  romancer  or  playwright  than  did  the 
great  Revolution  in  America." 

"  Am  I  to  understand  that  there  was  actually  no  violent 
doings  in  connection  with  this  great  transformation  ? " 

"  There  were  a  great  number  of  minor  disturbances  and 
collisions,  involving  in  the  aggregate  a  considerable  amount 
of  violence  and  bloodshed,  but  there  was  nothing  like  the 


THEATER-GOING  IN  THE  TWENTIETH  CENTURY.  3^7 

war  with  pitched  lines  which  the  early  reformers  looked 
for.  Many  a  petty  dispute,  causeless  and  resultless,  between 
naraeless  kings  in  the  past,  too  small  for  historical  mention, 
has  cost  far  more  violence  and  bloodshed  than,  so  far  as 
America  is  concerned,  did  the  greatest  of  all  revolutions." 

"And  did  the  European  nations  fare  as  well  when  they 
passed  through  the  same  crisis  ?  " 

"  The  conditions  of  none  of  them  were  so  favorable  to 
peaceful  social  revolution  as  were  those  of  the  United  States, 
and  the  experience  of  most  was  longer  and  harder,  but  it 
may  be  said  that  in  the  case  of  none  of  the  European  peoples 
were  the  direful  apprehensions  of  blood  and  slaughter  justi- 
fied which  the  earlier  reformers  seem  to  have  entertained. 
All  over  the  world  the  Revolution  was,  as  to  its  main  fac- 
tors, a  triumph  of  moral  forces." 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

THEATER-GOING  IN  THE   TWENTIETH   CENTURY. 

"  I  AM  sorry  to  interrupt,"  said  Edith,  "  but  it  wants 
only  five  minutes  of  the  time  for  the  rising  of  the  curtain, 
and  Julian  ought  not  to  miss  the  first  scene." 

On  this  notice  we  at  once  betook  ourselves  to  the  music 
room,  where  four  easy  chairs  had  been  cozily  arranged  for 
our  convenience.  While  the  doctor  was  adjusting  the  tele- 
phone and  electroscope  connections  for  our  use,  I  expatiated 
to  my  companion  upon  the  contrasts  between  the  conditions 
of  theater-going  in  the  nineteenth  and  in  the  twentieth  cen- 
turies— contrasts  which  the  happy  denizens  of  the  present 
world  can  scarcely,  by  any  effort  of  imagination.  apx3reciate. 
"  In  my  time,  only  the  residents  of  the  larger  cities,  or  visit- 
ors to  them,  were  ever  able  to  enjoy  good  plays  or  operas, 
pleasures  which  were  by  necessary  consequence  forbidden 
and  unknown  to  the  mass  of  the  people.  But  even  those 
who  as  to  locality  might  enjoy  these  recreations  were 
obliged,  in  order  to  do  so,  to  undergo  and  endure  such 
prodigious  fuss,  crowding,  expense,  and    general  derange- 


348  EQUALITY. 

ment  of  comfort  that  for  the  most  part  they  preferred  to 
stay  at  home.  As  for  enjoying  the  great  artists  of  other 
countries,  one  had  to  travel  to  do  so  or  wait  for  the  artists 
to  travel.  To-day,  I  need  not  tell  you  how  it  is  :  you  stay  at 
home  and  send  your  eyes  and  ears  abroad  to  see  and  hear 
for  you.  Wherever  the  electric  connection  is  carried — and 
there  need  be  no  human  habitation  however  remote  from 
social  centers,  be  it  the  mid-air  balloon  or  mid-ocean  float 
of  the  weather  watchman,  or  the  ice-crusted  hut  of  the  polar 
observer,  where  it  may  not  reach — it  is  possible  in  slipped 
and  dressing  gown  for  the  dv/eller  to  take  his  choice  of  the 
public  entertainments  given  that  day  in  every  city  of  the 
earth.  And  remember,  too,  although  you  can  not  under- 
stand it,  who  have  never  seen  bad  acting  or  heard  bad  sing- 
ing, how  this  ability  of  one  troupe  to  play  or  sing  to  the 
whole  earth  at  once  has  operated  to  take  away  the  occupa- 
tion of  mediocre  artists,  seeing  that  everybody,  being  able  to 
see  and  hear  the  best,  will  hear  them  and  see  them  only.'' 

"  There  goes  the  bell  for  the  curtain,"  said  the  doctor,  and 
in  another  moment  I  had  forgotten  all  else  in  "the  scene 
upon  the  stage.  I  need  not  sketch  the  action  of  a  play  so 
familiar  as  "  The  Knights  of  the  Golden  Eule."  It  is 
enough  for  this  purpose  to  I'ecall  the  fact  that  the  cos- 
tumes and  setting  were  of  the  last  days  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  little  different  from  what  they  had  been  when  I 
looked  last  on  the  world  of  that  day.  There  were  a  few 
anachronisms  and  inaccuracies  in  the  setting  which  the  the- 
atrical administration  has  since  done  me  the  honor  to  solicit 
my  assistance  in  correcting,  but  the  best  tribute  to  the  gen- 
eral correctness  of  the  scheme  was  its  effect  to  make  me 
from  the  first  moment  oblivious  of  my  actual  surroundings. 
I  found  myself  in  presence  of  a  group  of  living  Contem^^o- 
raries  of  my  former  life,  men  and  women  dressed  as  I  had 
seen  them  dressed,  talking  and  acting,  as  till  within  a  few 
weeks  I  had  always  seen  people  talk  and  act ;  persons,  in 
short,  of  like  passions,  prejudices,  and  manners  to  my  own, 
even  to  minute  mannerisms  ingeniously  introduced  by  the 
playwright,  which  even  more  than  the  larger  traits  of  resem- 
blance affected  my  imagination.  The  only  feeling  that 
hindered  my  full  acceptance  of  the  idea  that  I  was  attend- 


THE  TRANSITION  PERIOD.  349 

ing  a  nineteenth-century  show  was  a  puzzled  wonder  why 
I  should  seem  to  know  so  much  more  than  the  actors  ap- 
peared to  about  the  outcome  of  the  social  revolution  they 
were  alluding  to  as  in  progress. 

When  the  curtain  fell  on  the  first  scene,  and  I  looked 
about  and  saw  Edith,  her  mother  and  father,  sitting  about 
me  in  the  music  room,  the  realization  of  my  actual  situation 
came  with  a  shock  that  earlier  in  my  twentieth-century 
career  would  have  set  my  brain  swimming.  But  I  ^vas  too 
firm  on  my  new  feet  now  for  anything  of  that  sort,  and  for 
the  rest  of  the  play  the  constant  sense  of  the  tremendous 
experience  which  had  made  me  at  once  a  contemporary  of 
two  ages  so  widely  apart,  contributed  an  indescribable  in- 
tensity to  my  enjoyment  of  the  play. 

After  the  curtain  fell,  we  sat  talking  of  the  drama,  and 
everything  else,  till  the  globe  of  the  color  clock,  turning 
from  bottle-green  to  white,  warned  us  of  midnight,  when 
the  ladies  left  the  doctor  and  myself  to  our  own  devices. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

THE   TRANSITION  PERIOD. 

"It  is  pretty  late,"  I  said,  " but  I  want  very  much  to  ask 
you  just  a  few  more  questions  about  the  Revolution.  All 
that  I  have  learned  leaves  me  quite  as  puzzled  as  ever  to 
imagine  any  set  of  practical  measures  by  which  the  substi- 
tution of  public  for  private  capitalism  could  have  been 
effected  without  a  prodigious  shock.  We  had  in  our  day 
engineers  clever  enough  to  move  great  buildings  from  one 
site  to  another,  keeping  them  meanwhile  so  steady  and 
upright  as  not  to  interfere  with  the  dwellers  in  them,  or  to 
cause  an  interruption  of  the  domestic  operations.  A  prob- 
lem something  like  this,  but  a  millionfold  greater  and  more 
complex,  must  have  been  raised  when  it  came  to  changing 
the  entire  basis  of  production  and  distribution  and  revolu- 
tionizing the  conditions  of  everybody's  employment  and 
maintenance,  and  doing  it,  moreover,  without  meanwhile 


350  EQUALITY. 

seriously  interrupting  the  ongoing  of  the  various  parts  of 
the  economic  machinery  on  which  the  livelihood  of  the 
people  from  day  to  day  depended.  I  should  be  greatly  in- 
terested to  have  you  tell  me  something  about  how  this  was 
done." 

"Your  question,"'  replied  the  doctor,  ''reflects  a  feeling 
which  had  no  little  influence  during  the  revolutionary 
period  to  prolong  the  toleration  extended  by  the  people  to 
private  capitalism  despite  the  mounting  indignation  against 
its  enormities.  A  complete  change  of  economic  systems 
seemed  to  them,  as  it  does  to  you,  such  a  colossal  and  compli- 
cated undertaking  that  even  many  who  ardently  desired 
the  new  order  and  fully  believed  in  its  feasibility  when  once 
established,  shrank  back  from  what  they  apprehended  would 
be  the  vast  confusion  and  difficulty  of  the  transition  process. 
Of  course,  the  capitalists,  and  champions  of  things  as  they 
were,  made  the  most  of  this  feeling,  and  apparently  bothered 
the  reformers  not  a  little  by  calling  on  them  to  name  the 
specific  measures  by  which  they  would,  if  they  had  the 
power,  proceed  to  substitute  for  the  existing  system  a  na- 
tionalized plan  of  industry  managed  in  the  equal  interest 
of  all. 

"  One  school  of  revolutionists  declined  to  formulate  or 
suggest  any  definite  programme  whatever  for  the  consum- 
mating or  constructive  stage  of  the  Revolution.  They  said 
that  the  crisis  would  suggest  the  method  for  dealing  with 
it,  and  it  would  be  foolish  and  fanciful  to  discuss  the  emer- 
gency before  it  arose.  But  a  good  general  makes  plans 
which  provide  in  advance  for  all  the  main  eventualities  of 
his  campaign.  His  plans  are,  of  course,  subject  to  radical 
modifications  or  complete  abandonment,  according  to  cir- 
cumstances, but  a  provisional  plan  he  ought  to  have.  The 
reply  of  this  school  of  revolutionists  was  not,  therefore,  satis- 
factory, and,  so  long  as  no  better  one  could  be  made,  a  timid 
and  conservative  community  inclined  to  look  askance  at  the 
revolutionary  programme. 

"  Realizing  the  need  of  something  more  positive  as  a  plan 
of  campaign,  various  schools  of  reformers  suggested  more 
or  less  definite  schemes.  One  there  was  which  argued  that 
the  trades  unions  might  develop  strength  enough  to  control 


THE  TRANSITION   PERIOD.  351 

the  great  trades,  and  i^ut  their  own  elected  officers  in  place 
of  the  capitalists,  thus  organizing  a  sort  of  federation  of 
trades  unions.  This,  if  practicable,  would  have  brought  in  a 
system  of  group  capitalism  as  divisive  and  antisocial,  in  the 
large  sense,  as  private  capitalism  itself,  and  far  more  danger- 
ous to  civil  order.  This  idea  was  later  heard  little  of,  as  it 
became  evident  that  the  possible  grow^th  and  functions  of 
trade  unionism  were  very  limited. 

"  There  was  another  school  which  held  that  the  solution 
was  to  be  found  by  the  establishment  of  great  numbers  of 
voluntary  colonies,  organized  on  co-operative  principles, 
which  by  their  success  w^ould  lead  to  the  formation  of 
more  and  yet  more,  and  that,  finally,  when  most  of  the  popu- 
lation had  joined  such  groups  they  w^ould  simply  coalesce 
and  form  one.  Many  noble  and  enthusiastic  souls  devoted 
themselves  to  this  line  of  effort,  and  the  numerous  colonies 
that  were  organized  in  the  United  States  during  the  revolu- 
tionary period  were  a  striking  indication  of  the  general 
turning  of  men's  hearts  toward  a  better  social  order.  Other- 
wise such  experimeats  led,  and  could  lead,  to  nothing.  Eco- 
nomically weak,  held  together  by  a  sentimental  motive, 
generally  composed  of  eccentric  though  worthy  persons, 
and  surrounded  by  a  hostile  environment  which  had  the 
w^hole  use  and  advantage  of  the  social  and  economic  ma- 
chinery, it  was  scarcely  possible  that  such  enterprises  should 
come  to  anything  practical  unless  under  exceptional  leader- 
ship or  circumstances. 

"There  was  another  school  still  which  held  that  the 
better  order  was  to  evolve  gradually  out  of  the  old  as  the 
result  of  an  indefinite  series  of  humane  legislation,  consist- 
ing of  factory  acts,  short-hour  laws,  pensions  for  the  old, 
improved  tenement  houses,  abolition  of  slums,  and  I  don't 
know  how  many  other  poultices  for  particular  evils  result- 
ant from  the  system  of  private  capitalism.  These  good  peo- 
ple argued  that  when  at  some  indefinitely  remote  time  all 
the  evil  consequences  of  capitalism  had  been  abolished,  it 
would  be  time  enough  and  then  comparatively  easy  to  abol- 
ish capitalism  itself — that  is  to  say,  after  all  the  rotten  fruit 
of  the  evil  tree  had  been  picked  by  hand,  one  at  a  time,  off 
the  branches,  it  would  be  time  enoug-h  to  cut  down  the  tree. 


352  EQUALITY. 

Of  course,  an  obvious  objection  to  this  plan  was  that,  so 
long"  as  the  tree  remained  standing,  the  evil  fruit  would  be 
likely  to  grow  as  fast  as  it  was  plucked.  The  various  reform 
measures,  and  many  others  urged  by  these  reformers,  were 
wholly  humane  and  excellent,  and  only  to  be  criticised  when 
put  forward  as  a  sufficient  method  of  overthrowing  capital- 
ism. They  did  not  even  tend  toward  such  a  result,  but  were 
quite  as  likely  to  help  capitalism  ta  obtain  a  longer  lease  of 
life  by  making  it  a  little  less  abhorrent.  There  was  really  a 
time  after  the  revolutionary  movement  had  gained  consider- 
able headway  when  judicious  leaders  felt  considerable  ap- 
prehension lest  it  might  be  diverted  from  its  real  aim,  and 
its  force  wasted  in  this  programme  of  piecemeal  reforms. 

"  But  you  have  asked  me  what  was  the  plan  of  operation 
by  which  the  revolutionists,  when  they  finally  came  into 
power,  actually  overthrew  private  capitalism.  It  was  really 
as  pretty  an  illustration  of  the  military  manoeuvre  that  used 
to  be  called  flanking  as  the  history  of  war  contains.  Now,  a 
flanking  o]3eration  is  one  by  which  an  army,  instead  of 
attacking  its  antagonist  directly  in  front,  moves  round  one 
of  his  flanks  in  such  a  way  that  without  striking  a  blow  it 
forces  the  enemy  to  leave  his  position.  That  is  just  the 
strategy  the  revolutionists  used  in  the  final  issue  with  capi- 
talism. 

"  The  capitalists  had  taken  for  granted  that  they  were  to 
be  directly  assaulted  by  wholesale  forcible  seizure  and  con- 
fiscation of  their  properties.  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Although  in 
the  end,  of  course,  collective  ownership  was  wholly  substi- 
tuted for  the  private  ownership  of  capital,  yet  that  was  not 
done  until  after  the  whole  system  of  private  capitalism  had 
broken  down  and  fallen  to  pieces,  and  not  as  a  means  of 
throwing  it  down.  To  recur  to  the  military  illustration,  the 
revolutionary  army  did  not  directly  attack  the  fortress  of 
capitalism  at  all,  but  so  manoeuvi'ed  as  to  make  it  untenable, 
and  to  compel  its  evacuation. 

"  Of  course,  you  will  understand  that  this  ])o\icj  was  not 
suggested  by  any  consideration  for  the  rights  of  the  capital- 
ists. Long  before  this  time  the  people  had  been  educated  to 
see  in  private  capitalism  the  source  and  sum  of  all  vil- 
lainies, convicting  mankiiid  of  deadly  sin  every  day  that  it 


THE  TRANSITION  PERIOD.  353 

w^as  tolerated.  The  policy  of  indii'ect  attack  pursued  by 
the  revolutionists  was  wholly  dictated  by  the  interest  of 
the  people  at  large,  which  demanded  that  serious  derange- 
ments of  the  economic  system  should  be,  so  far  as  possible, 
avoided  during  the  transition  from  the  old  order  to  the 
new. 

"And  now,  dropping  figures  of  speech,  let  me  tell  you 
plainly  what  was  done — that  is,  so  far  as  I  remember  the 
story.  I  have  made  no  special  study  of  tlie  period  since  my 
college  days,  and  very  likely  when  you  come  to  read  the 
histories  you  will  find  that  I  have  made  many  mistakes  as 
to  the  details  of  the  process.  I  am  just  trying  to  give  you  a 
general  idea  of  the  main  course  of  events,  to  the  best  of  my 
remembrance.  I  have  already  explained  that  the  first  step 
in  the  programme  of  political  action  adopted  by  the  oppo- 
nents of  private  capitalism  had  been  to  induce  the  people  to 
municipalize  and  nationalize  various  quasi-public  services, 
such  as  waterworks,  lighting  plants,  ferries,  local  railroads, 
the  telegraph  and  telephone  systems,  the  general  railroad 
system,  the  coal  mines  and  petroleum  production,  and  the 
traffic  in  intoxicating  liquors.  These  being  a  class  of  enter- 
prises partlj"  or  wholly  non-competitive  and  monopolistic 
in  character,  the  assum^Dtion  of  public  control  over  them 
did  not  directly  attack  the  sj^stem  of  production  and  distri- 
bution in  general,  and  even  the  timid  and  conservative 
viewed  the  step  with  little  apprehension.  This  whole  class 
of  natural  or  legal  monopolies  might  indeed  have  been 
taken  under  public  management  without  logically  involv- 
ing an  assault  on  the  system  of  private  capitalism  as  a 
wiiole.  Not  only  was  this  so,  but  even  if  this  entire  class  of 
businesses  was  made  public  and  run  at  cost,  the  cheapening 
in  the  cost  of  living  to  the  community  thus  effected  would 
presently  be  swallowed  up  by  reductions  of  wages  and  prices, 
resulting  from  the  remorseless  operation  of  the  competitive 
X)rofit  system. 

"  It  was  therefore  chiefly  as  a  means  to  an  ulterior  end 
that  the  oj^ponent  of  capitalism  favored  the  public  operation 
of  these  businesses.  One  part  of  that  ulterior  end  was  to 
prove  to  the  people  the  superior  simplicity,  efficiency,  and 
humanity  of  public  over  private  management  of  economic 


354  EQUALITY. 

undertakings.  But  the  principal  use  which  this  partial  pro- 
cess of  nationalization  served  was  to  prepare  a  body  of  pub- 
lic employees  sufficiently  large  to  furnish  a  nucleus  of  con- 
sumers when  the  Government  should  undertake  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  general  system  of  production  and  distribution 
on  a  non-profit  basis.  The  employees  of  the  nationalized 
railroads  alone  numbered  nearly  a  million,  and  with  their 
dependent  women  and  children  represented  some  4,000,000 
people.  The  employees  in  the  coal  mines,  iron  Diines,  and 
other  businesses  taken  charge  of  by  the  Government  as  sub- 
sidiary to  the  railroads,  together  with  the  telegraph  and  tele- 
phone workers,  also  in  the  public  service,  made  some  hundreds 
of  thousands  more  persons  with  their  dependents.  Previous 
to  these  additions  there  had  been  in  the  regular  civil  service 
of  the  Government  nearly  250,000  persons,  and  the  army 
and  navy  made  some  50,000  more.  These  groups  with  their 
dependents  amounted  probably  to  a  million  more  persons, 
Avho,  added  to  the  railroad,  mining,  telegraph,  and  other 
employees,  made  an  aggregate  of  something  like  5,000,000 
persons  dependent  on  the  national  employment.  Besides 
these  were  the  various  bodies  of  State  and  municipal  em- 
ployees in  all  grades,  from  the  Governors  of  States  down  to 
the  street-cleaners. 

THE   PUBLIC-SERVICE   STORES. 

"  The  first  step  of  the  revolutionary  party  when  it  came 
to  power,  with  the  mandate  of  a  popular  majority  to  bring 
in  the  new  order,  was  to  establish  in  all  important  centers 
public-service  stores,  where  public  employees  could  procure 
at  cost  all  provisions  of  necessity  or  luxury  previously 
bought  at  private  stores.  The  idea  was  the  less  startling  for 
not  being  wholly  new.  It  had  been  the  custom  of  various 
governments  to  provide  for  certain  of  the  needs  of  their 
soldiers  and  sailors  by  establishing  service  stores  at  which 
everything  was  of  absolutely  guaranteed  quality  and  sold 
strictly  at  cost.  The  articles  thus  furnished  were  proverbial 
for  their  cheapness  and  quality  compared  with  anything 
that  could  be  bought  elsewhere,  and  the  soldier's  privilege 
of  obtaining  such  goods  w^as  envied  by  the  civilian,  left  to 
the  tender  mercies  of  the  adulterating  and  profit-gorging 


THE  TRANSITION  PERIOD.  355 

retailer.  The  public  stores  now  set  up  by  the  Government 
were,  however,  on  a  scale  of  completeness  quite  beyond 
any  previous  undertajvings,  intended  as  they  were  to  sup- 
ply all  the  consumption  of  a  population  large  enough  for  a 
small-sized  nation. 

''At  first  the  goods  in  these  stores  were  of  necessity 
bought  by  the  Government  of  the  private  capitalists,  pro- 
ducers, or  importers.  On  these  the  public  employee  saved 
all  the  middlemen's  and  retailers'  profits,  getting  them  at 
perhaps  half  or  two  thirds  of  what  they  must  have  paid  at 
l)rivate  stores,  with  the  guarantee,  moreover,  of  a  careful 
Government  inspection  as  to  quality.  But  these  substantial 
advantages  were  but  a  foretaste  of  the  prosperity  he  en- 
joyed when  the  Government  added  the  function  of  i^roduc- 
tion  to  that  of  distribution,  and  proceeded  as  rapidly  as  pos- 
sible to  manufacture  products,  instead  of  buying  them  of 
capitalists. 

"To  this  end  great  food  and  cotton  farms  were  estab- 
lished in  all  sections  of  the  country  and  innumerable  shops 
and  factories  started,  so  that  presently  the  Government  h^d 
in  public  employ  not  only  the  original  5,000,000,  but  as  many 
more — farmers,  artisans,  and  laborers  of  all  sorts.  These, 
of  course,  also  had  the  right  to  be  provided  for  at  the  public 
stores,  and  the  system  had  to  be  extended  corresponding- 
ly. The  buyers  in  the  public  stores  now  saved  not  only 
the  profits  of  the  middleman  and  the  retailer,  but  those 
as  well  of  the  manufacturer,  the  producer,  and  the  im- 
porter. 

'■  Still  further,  not  only  did  the  public  stores  furnish  the 
public  employees  with  every  kind  of  goods  for  consump- 
tion, but  the  Government  likewise  organized  all  sorts  of 
needful  services,  such  as  cooking,  laundry  work,  houseworli 
agencies,  etc.,  for  the  exclusive  benefit  of  public  employees — 
all,  of  course,  conducted  absolutely  at  cost.  The  result  was 
that  the  public  employee  was  able  to  be  supplied  at  home  or 
in  restaurants  with  food  prepared  by  the  best  skill  out  of 
the  best  material  and  in  the  greatest  possible  variety,  and 
more  cheaply  than  he  had  ever  been  able  to  provide  himself 
with  even  the  coarsest  provisions." 

"  How  did  the  Government  acquire  the  lands  and  manu- 


356  EQUALITY. 

facturing  plants  it  needed  ? "  I  inquired.  ''  Did  it  buy  them 
of  the  owners,  or  as  to  the  plants  did  it  build  them  ?  " 

"  It  could,  of  course,  have  bought  them,  or  in  the  case  of 
the  plants  have  erected  them  without  affecting  the  success 
of  the  programme,  but  that  was  generally  needless.  As  to 
land,  the  farmers  by  millions  w^ere  only  too  glad  to  turn 
over  their  farms  to  the  Government  and  accept  employment 
on  them,  with  the  security  of  livelihood  which  that  iinplied 
for  them  and  theirs.  The  Government,  moreover,  took  for 
cultivation  all  unoccupied  lands  that  were  convenient  for 
the  purpose,  remitting  the  taxes  for  compensation. 

''  It  was  much  the  same  with  the  factories  and  shops 
which  the  national  system  called  for.  They  were  standing 
idle  by  thousands  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  in  the  midst 
of  starving  populations  of  the  unemployed.  When  these 
plants  w^ere  suited  to  the  Government  requirements  they 
were  taken  possession  of,  put  in  operation,  and  the  former 
workers  provided  with  employment.  In  most  instances 
former  superintendents  and  foremen  as  well  as  the  main 
body  of  operatives  were  glad  to  keep  their  old  places,  with 
the  nation  as  employer.  The  owners  of  such  plants,  if  I 
remember  rightly,  received  some  allowance,  equal  to  a  very 
low  rate  of  interest,  for  the  use  of  their  property  until  such 
time  as  the  complete  establishment  of  the  new  order  should 
make  the  equal  maintenance  of  all  citizens  the  subject  of 
a  national  guarantee.  That  this  was  to  be  the  speedy  and 
certain  outcome  of  the  course  of  events  was  now  no 
longer  doubted,  and  pending  that  result  the  owners  of 
idle  plants  were  only  too  glad  to  get  anything  at  all  for 
their  use. 

"  The  manufacturing  plants  were  not  the  only  form  of 
idle  capital  which  the  Government  on  similar  terms  made 
use  of.  Considerable  quantities  of  foreign  imports  were 
required  to  supply  the  public  stores ;  and  to  avoid  the  pay- 
ment of  profits  to  capitalists  on  these,  the  Government  took 
possession  of  idle  shipping,  building  what  it  further  needed, 
and  went  into  foreign  trade,  exporting  products  of  the  pub- 
lic industries,  and  bringing  home  in  exchange  the  needed 
foreign  goods.  Fishing  fleets  flying  the  national  flag  also 
brought  home  the  harvest  of  the  seas.     These  peace  fleets 


THE  TRANSITION   PERIOD.  357 

soon  far  outnumbered  the  war  ships  which  up  to  that  time 
exclusively  had  borne  the  national  commission.  On  these 
fleets  the  sailor  was  no  more  a  slave. 

HOW  MONEY   LOST   ITS   VALUE. 

"  And  now  consider  the  ell'ect  of  another  feature  of  the 
public  store  system,  namely,  tlie  disuse  of  money  in  its 
operations.  Ordinary  money  was  not  received  in  the  pub- 
lic stores,  but  a  sort  of  scrip  canceled  on  use  and  good  for  a 
limited  time  only.  The  public  employee  had  the  right  of  ex- 
changing the  money  he  received  for  wages,  at  par,  into  this 
scrip.  While  the  Government  issued  it  only  to  public  em- 
ployees, it  was  accepted  at  the  public  stores  from  any  who 
presented  it,  the  Government  being  only  careful  that  the 
total  amount  did  not  exceed  the  wages  exchanged  into  such 
scrip  by  the  public  employees.  It  thus  became  a  currency 
which  commanded  three,  four,  and  five  hundred  per  cent 
premium  over  money  which  would  only  buy  the  high-priced 
and  adulterated  goods  for  sale  in  the  remaining  stores  of 
the  capitalists.  The  gain  of  the  premium  went,  of  course, 
to  the  public  employees.  Gold,  which  had  been  worshiped 
by  the  capitalists  as  the  supreme  and  eternal  type  of  money, 
was  no  more  receivable  than  silver,  copper,  or  paper  cur- 
rency at  the  public  stores,  and  people  who  desired  the  best 
goods  were  fortunate  to  find  a  public  employee  foolish 
enough  to  accept  three  or  four  dollars  in  gold  for  one  in 
scrip. 

"  The  e£Pect  to  make  money  a  drug  in  the  market,  of  this 
sweeping  reduction  in  its  purchasing  utility,  was  greatly  in- 
creased by  its  practically  complete  disuse  by  the  large  and 
ever-enlarging  proportion  of  the  people  in  the  public  service. 
The  demand  for  money  was  still  further  lessened  by  the 
fact  that  nobody  wanted  to  borrow  it  now  for  use  in  extend- 
ing business,  seeing  that  the  field  of  enterprise  open  to 
private  capital  was  shrinking  every  hour,  and  evidently 
destined  presently  to  disappear.  Neither  did  any  one  desire 
money  to  hoard  it,  for  it  was  more  evident  every  day  that  it 
would  soon  become  worthless.  I  have  spoken  of  the  public- 
store  scrip  commanding  several  hundred  per  cent  premium 
over  money,  but  that  was  in  the  earlier  stages  of  the  transi- 
24 


858  EQUALITY. 

tion  period.  Toward  the  last  the  premium  mounted  to  ever- 
dizzier  altitudes,  until  the  value  of  money  quite  disajDpeared, 
it  being  literally  good  for  nothing  as  money. 

"  If  you  would  imagine  the  complete  collapse  of  the  en- 
tire monetary  and  financial  system  with  all  its  standards 
and  influences  upon  human  relations  and  conditions,  you 
have  only  to  fancy  what  the  effect  would  have  been  upon 
the  same  interests  and  relations  in  your  day  if  positive  and 
unquestioned  information  had  become  general  that  the 
world  was  to  be  destroyed  within  a  few  weeks  or  months, 
or  at  longest  within  a  year.  In  this  case  indeed  the  world 
was  not  to  be  destroyed,  but  to  be  rejuvenated  and  to  enter 
on  an  incomparably  higher  and  happier  and  more  vigorous 
phase  of  evolution ;  but  the  effect  on  the  monetary  system 
and  all  dependent  on  it  was  quite  the  same  as  if  the  world 
were  to  come  to  an  end,  for  the  new  world  would  have  no 
use  for  money,  nor  recognize  any  human  rights  or  relations 
as  measured  by  it." 

"  It  strikes  me,"  said  I,  "  that  as  money  grew  valueless 
the  public  taxes  must  have  failed  to  bring  in  anything  to 
support  the  Government." 

"Taxes,"  replied  the  doctor,  "were  an  incident  of  private 
capitalism  and  were  to  pass  away  with  it.  Their  use  had 
been  to  give  the  Government  a  means  of  commanding  labor 
under  the  money  system.  In  proportion  as  the  nation  col- 
lectively organized  and  directly  applied  the  whole  labor  of 
the  people  as  the  public  welfare  required  it,  had  no  need  and 
could  make  no  use  of  taxes  any  more  than  of  money  in 
other  respects.  Taxation  went  to  pieces  in  the  culminating 
stage  of  the  Revolution,  in  measure  as  the  organization  of 
the  capital  and  labor  of  the  people  for  public  purposes  put 
an  end  to  its  functions." 

HOW   THE   REST   OF   THE    PEOPLE    CAME   IN. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  about  this  time,  if  not  before,  the 
mass  of  the  people  outside  of  the  public  service  must  have 
begun  to  insist  pretty  loudly  upon  being  let  in  to  share  these 
good  things," 

"  Of  course  they  did,"  replied  the  doctor ;  "  and  of 
course  that  was  just  what  they  were  expected  to  do  and 


THE  TRANSITION  PERIOD.  359 

what  it  had  been  arranged  they  should  do  as  soon  as  the 
nationalized  system  of  production  and  distribution  Avas  in 
full  running  order.  The  previously  existing  body  of  public 
employees  had  merely  been  utilized  as  furnishing  a  conven- 
ient nucleus  of  consumers  to  start  with,  which  might  be 
supplied  without  deranging  meantime  any  more  than  neces- 
sary the  outside  wage  or  commodity  markets.  As  soon  as 
the  system  was  in  working  order  the  Government  under- 
took to  receive  into  the  public  service  not  merely  selected 
bodies  of  workers,  but  all  who  applied.  From  that  time  the 
industrial  army  received  its  recruits  by  tens  and  fifties  of 
thousands  a  day  till  within  a  brief  time  the  people  as  a 
whole  were  in  the  public  service. 

"  Of  course,  everybody  who  had  an  occupation  or  trade 
was  kept  right  on  at  it  at  the  place  where  he  had  formerly 
been  employed,  and  the  labor  exchanges,  already  in  full 
use,  managed  the  rest.  Later  on,  when  all  was  going 
smoothly,  would  be  time  enough  for  the  changings  and 
shif tings  about  that  would  seem  desirable." 

"  Naturally,"  I  said,  "  under  the  operation  of  the  public 
emx^loyment  programme,  the  working  people  must  have  been 
those  first  brought  into  the  system,  and  the  rich  and  well- 
to-do  must  probably  have  remained  outside  longest,  and 
come  in,  so  to  speak,  all  in  a  batch,  w^ien  they  did." 

"  Evidently  so,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  Of  course,  the 
original  nucleus  of  public  emx)loyees,  for  whom  the  public 
stores  were  first  opened,  were  all  working  people,  and  so 
were  the  bodies  of  people  successively  taken  into  the  public 
service,  as  farmers,  artisans,  and  tradesmen  of  all  sorts. 
There  was  notliing  to  prevent  a  capitalist  from  joining  the 
service,  but  he  could  do  so  only  as  a  worker  on  a  par  with 
the  others.  He  could  buy  in  the  public  stores  only  to  the 
extent  of  his  pay  as  a  worker.  His  other  money  would  not 
be  good  there.  There  were  many  men  and  women  of  the 
rich  who,  in  the  humane  enthusiasm  of  the  closing  days  of 
the  Revolution,  abandoned  their  lands  and  mills  to  the  Gov- 
ernment and  volunteered  in  the  public  service  at  anything 
that  could  be  given  them  to  do ;  but  on  the  whole,  as  might 
be  expected,  the  idea  of  going  to  work  for  a  living  on  an 
economic  equality  with  their  former  servants  was  not  one 


360  EQUALITY. 

that  the  rich  welcomed,  and  they  did  not  come  to  it  till  they 
had  to." 

"  And  were  they  then,  at  last,  enlisted  by  force  ? "  I 
asked. 

"  By  force  !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor  ;  "  dear  me !  no. 
There  was  no  sort  of  constraint  brought  to  bear  upon  them 
any  more  than  upon  anybody  else,  save  that  created  by  the 
growing  difficulty  and  final  impossibility  of  hiring  persons 
for  private  employment,  or  obtaining  the  necessities  of  life 
except  from'  the  public  stores  with  the  new  scrip.  Before 
the  Government  entered  on  the  policy  of  receiving  into  the 
public  service  every  one  who  applied,  the  unemployed  had 
thronged  upon  the  capitalists,  seeking  to  be  hired.  But  im- 
mediately afterward  the  rich  began  to  find  it  impossible  to 
obtain  men  and  women  to  serve  them  in  field,  factory,  or 
kitchen.  They  could  offer  no  inducements  in  the  depreci- 
ated money  which  alone,  they  possessed  that  were  enough  to 
counterbalance  the  advantages  of  the  public  service.  Every- 
body knew  also  that  there  was  no  future  for  the  wealthy 
class,  and  nothing  to  be  gained  through  their  favor. 

"  Moi^eover,  as  you  may  imagine,  there  was  already  a 
stix)ng  popular  feeling  of  contempt  for  those  who  would 
abase  themselves  to  serve  others  for  hire  when  they  might 
serve  the  nation  of  which  they  were  citizens ;  and,  as  you 
may  well  imagine,  this  grooving  sentiment  made  the  posi- 
tion of  a  private  servant  or  employee  of  any  sort  intolerable. 
And  not  only  did  the  unfortunate  capitalists  find  it  impos- 
sible to  induce  x>eoi3le  to  cook  for  them,  wash  for  them,  to 
black  their  boots,  to  sweep  their  rooms,  or  drive  their  coaches, 
but  they  were  put  to  straits  to  obtain  in  the  dwindling 
private  markets,  where  alone  their  money  was  good,  the 
bare  necessities  of  life,  and  presently  found  even  that  im- 
possible. For  a  while,  it  would  seem,  they  struggled  against 
a  relentless  fate,  sullenly  supporting  life  on  crusts  in  the 
corners  of  their  lonesome  palaces ;  but  at  last,  of  course, 
they  all  had  to  follow  their  former  servants  into  the  new 
nation,  for  there  was  no  way  of  living  save  by  connection 
with  the  national  economic  organization.  Thus  strikingly 
was  illustrated,  in  the  final  exit  of  the  capitalists  from  the 
human  stage,  how  absolute  was  and  always  had  been  the 


TPIE  TRANSITION   PERIOD.  3^1 

dependence  of  capital  upon  the  labor  it  despised  and  tyran- 
nized over." 

"  And  do  I  understand  that  there  was  no  compulsion 
upon  anybody  to  join  the  public  service  ? " 

"  None  but  what  was  inherent  in  the  circumstances  I 
have  named,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  The  new  order  had  no 
need  or  use  for  unwilling  recruits.  In  fact,  it  needed  no 
one,  but  every  one  needed  it.  If  any  one  did  not  wish  to 
enter  the  public  service  and  could  live  outside  of  it  without 
stealing  or  begging,  he  was  quite  welcome  to.  The  books 
say  that  the  woods  were  full  of  self -exiled  hermits  for  a  while, 
but  one  by  one  they  tired  of  it  and  came  into  the  new  social 
house.  Some  isolated  communities,  however,  remained  out- 
side for  years," 

"The  mill  seems,  indeed,  to  have  been  calculated  to 
grind  to  an  exceeding  fineness  all  opposition  to  the  new 
order,"  I  observed,  "  and  yet  it  must  have  had  its  own  diffi- 
culties, too,  in  the  natural  refractoriness  of  the  materials  it 
had  to  make  grist  of.  Take,  for  example,  my  own  class  of 
the  idle  rich,  the  men  and  women  whose  only  business  had 
been  the  pursuit  of  pleasure.  What  useful  work  could  have 
been  got  out  of  such  i)eople  as  we  were,  however  well  dis- 
posed we  might  have  become  to  render  service  ?  Where 
could  we  have  been  fitted  into  any  sort  of  industrial  service 
without  being  more  hindrance  than  help  ?  " 

"  The  problem  might  have  been  serious  if  the  idle  rich  of 
whom  you  speak  had  been  a  very  large  proportion  of  the  popu- 
lation, but,  of  course,  though  very  much  in  evidence,  they 
were  in  numbers  insignificant  comj)ared  with  the  mass  of  use- 
ful workers.  So  far  as  they  were  educated  persons— and  quite 
generally  they  had  some  smattering  of  knowledge — there  was 
an  ample  demand  for  their  services  as  teachers.  Of  course, 
they  were  not  trained  teachers,  or  cap.able  of  good  pedagogi- 
cal work ;  but  directly  after  the  Revolution,  when  the  chil- 
dren and  youth  of  the  former  poor  were  turned  back  by  mil- 
lions from  the  field  and  factories  to  the  scliools,  and  when 
the  adults  also  of  the  working  classes  passionately^  demanded 
some  degree  of  education  to  correspond  with  the  improved 
conditions  of  life  they  had  entered  on,  there  was  unlimited 
call  for  the  services  as  instructors  of  everybody  who  was 


362  EQUALITY. 

able  to  teach  anything,  even  one  of  the  primary  branches, 
spelling,  writing,  geography,  or  arithmetic  in  the  rudiments. 
The  women  of  the  former  wealthy  class,  being  mostly  well 
educated,  found  in  this  task  of  teaching  the  children  of  the 
masses,  the  new  heirs  of  the  world,  an  employment  in  which 
I  fancy  they  must  have  tasted  more  real  happiness  in  the 
feeling  of  being  useful  to  their  kind  than  all  their  former 
frivolous  existences  could  have  given  them.  Few,  indeed, 
were  there  of  any  class  who  did  not  prove  to  have  some 
physical  or  mental  quality  by  which  they  might  with  pleas- 
ure to  themselves  be  serviceable  to  their  kind." 

WHAT  WAS  DONE   WITH   THE    VICIOUS   AND    CRIMINAL. 

*'  There  was  another  class  of  my  contemporaries,"  I  said, 
"  which  I  fancy  must  have  given  the  new  order  more  trouble 
to  make  anything  out  of  than  the  rich,  and  those  were  the 
vicious  and  criminal  idle.  The  rich  were  at  least  intelligent 
and  fairly  well  behaved,  and  knew  enough  to  adapt  them- 
selves to  a  new  state  of  things  and  make  the  best  of  the 
inevitable,  but  these  others  must  have  been  harder  to  deal 
with.  There  was  a  great  floating  population  of  vagabond 
criminals,  loafers,  and  vicious  of  every  class,  male  and 
female,  in  my  day,  as  doubtless  you  well  know.  Admit 
that  our  vicious  form  of  society  was  responsible  for  them  ; 
nevertheless,  there  they  were,  for  the  new  society  to  deal 
with.  To  all  intents  and  purposes  they  were  dehumanized, 
and  as  dangerous  as  wild  beasts.  They  were  barely  kept  in 
some  sort  of  restraint  by  an  army  of  police  and  the  weapons 
of  criminal  law,  and  constituted  a  permanent  menace  to  law 
and  order.  At  times  of  unusual  agitation,  and  especially  at 
all  revolutionary  crises,  they  were  wont  to  muster  in  alarm- 
ing force  and  become  aggressive.  At  the  crisis  you  are 
describing  they  must  doubtless  have  made  themselves  ex- 
tremely turbulent.  What  did  the  new  order  do  with  them  ? 
Its  just  and  humane  propositions  would  scarcely  appeal  to 
the  members  of  the  criminal  class.  They  were  not  reason- 
able beings;  they  preferred  to  live  by  lawless  violence, 
rather  than  by  orderly  industry,  on  terms  however  just. 
Surely  the  new  nation  must  have  found  this  class  of  citizens 
a  very  tough  morsel  for  its  digestion." 


THE  TRANSITION  PERIOD.  363 

"  Not  nearly  so  toug-li,''  replied  the  doctor,  "  as  the  former 
society  had  found  it.  In  the  first  place,  the  former  society, 
being  itself  based  on  injustice,  was  wholly  without  moral 
prestige  or  ethical  authority  in  dealing  with  the  criminal 
and  lawless  classes.  Society  itself  stood  condemned  in  their 
presence  for  the  injustice  which  had  been  the  provocation 
and  excuse  of  their  revolt.  This  was  a  fact  whicli  made  the 
whole  machinery  of  so-called  criminal  justice  in  your  day  a 
mockery.  Every  intelligent  man  knew  in  his  heart  that  the 
criminal  and  vicious  were,  for  the  most  part,  what  they  were 
on  account  of  neglect  and  injustice,  and  an  environment  of 
depraving  influences  for  which  a  defective  social  order  was 
responsible,  and  that  if  righteousness  were  done,  society,  in- 
stead of  judging  them,  ought  to  stand  with  them  in  the  dock 
before  a  higher  justice,  and  take  upon  itself  tlie  heavier  con- 
demnation. This  the  criminals  themselves  felt  in  the  bot- 
tom of  their  hearts,  and  that  feeling  forbade  them  to  respect 
the  law  they  feared.  They  felt  that  the  society  which  bade 
them  reform  was  itself  in  yet  greater  need  of  reformation. 
The  new  order,  on  the  other  hand,  held  forth  to  the  outcasts 
hands  purged  of  guilt  toward  them.  Admitting  the  wrong 
that  they  had  suffered  in  the  past,  it  invited  them  to  a  new 
life  under  new  conditions,  offering  them,  on  just  and  equal 
terms,  their  share  in  the  social  heritage.  Do  you  suppose 
that  there  ever  was  a  human  heart  so  base  that  it  did  not  at 
least  know  the  difference  between  justice  and  injustice,  and 
to  some  extent  respond  to  it  ? 

"  A  surprising  number  of  the  cases  you  speak  of,  Avho  had 
been  given  up  as  failures  by  your  civilization,  while  in  fact 
they  had  been  proofs  of  its  failure,  responded  with  alacrity 
to  the  first  fair  opportunity  to  be  decent  men  and  women 
which  had  ever  come  to  them.  There  was,  of  course,  a 
large  residuum  too  hopelessly  perverted,  too  congenitally 
deformed,  to  have  the  power  of  leading  a  good  life,  however 
assisted.  Toward  these  the  new  society,  strong  in  the  per- 
fect justice  of  its  attitude,  i^roceeded  with  merciful  firmness. 
The  new  society  was  not  to  tolerate,  as  the  old  had  done,  a 
criminal  class  in  its  midst  any  more  than  a  destitute  class. 
The  old  society  never  had  any  moral  right  to  forbid  stealing 
or  to  punish  robbers,  for  the  whole  oconomic  svstem   was 


364  EQUALITY. 

based  on  the  appropriation,  by  force  or  fraud  on  the  part  of 
a  few,  of  the  earth  and  its  resources  and  the  fruit  of  the 
toil  of  the  poor.  Still  less  had  it  any  right  to  forbid  beggary 
or  to  punish  violence,  seeing  that  the  economic  system 
which  it  maintained  and  defended  necessarily  operated  to 
make  beggars  and  to  provoke  violence.  But  the  new  order, 
guaranteeing  an  equality  of  plenty  to  all,  left  no  plea  for 
the  thief  and  robber,  no  excuse  for  the  beggar,  no  provoca- 
tion for  the  violent.  By  preferring  their  evil  courses  to  the 
fair  and  honorable  life  offered  them,  such  persons  would 
henceforth  pronounce  sentence  on  themselves  as  unfit  for 
human  intercourse.  With  a  good  conscience,  therefore,  the 
new  society  proceeded  to  deal  with  all  vicious  and  criminal 
persons  as  morally  insane,  and  to  segregate  them  in  places  of 
confinement,  there  to  spend  their  lives— not,  indeed,  under 
punishment,  or  enduring  hardships  of  any  sort  beyond 
enough  labor  for  self-support,  but  wholly  secluded  from  the 
world — and  absolutely  prevented  from  continuing  their 
kind.  By  this  means  the  race,  in  the  fu\st  generation  after 
the  Eevolution,  was  able  to  leave  behind  itself  forever  a 
load  of  inherited  depravity  and  base  congenital  instincts, 
and  so  ever  since  it  has  gone  on  from  generation  to  genero,- 
tion,  purging  itself  of  its  uncleanness." 

THE  COLORED  RACE  AND  THE  NEW  ORDER. 

"In  my  day,"  I  said,  "a  peculiar  complication  of  the 
social  problem  in  America  was  the  existence  in  the  South- 
ern States  of  many  millions  of  recently  freed  negro  slaves, 
but  partially  as  yet  equal  to  the  responsibility  of  freedom.  I 
should  be  interested  to  know  just  how  the  new  order  adapted 
itself  to  the  condition  of  the  colored  race  in  the  South." 

"  It  proved,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  the  prompt  solution  of 
a  problem  which  otherwise  might  have  continued  indefi- 
nitely to  plague  the  American  people.  The  population  of  re- 
cent slaves  was  in  need  of  some  sort  of  industrial  regimen, 
at  once  firm  and  benevolent,  administered  under  conditions 
which  should  meanwhile  tend  to  educate,  refine,  and  elevate 
its  members.  These  conditions  the  new  order  met  with  ideal 
perfection.  The  centralized  discipline  of  the  national  in- 
dustrial armv.  dr'n^udinqr  for  its  enforcement  not  so  much 


THE  TRANSITION  PERIOD.  365 

on  force  as  on  the  inability  of  any  one  to  s'ubsist  outside  of 
the  system  of  which  it  was  a  part,  furnished  just  the  sort  of 
a  control — gentle  yet  resistless — which  was  needed  by  the 
recently  emancipated  bondsman.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
universal  education  and  the  refinements  and  amenities  of 
life  which  came  with  the  economic  welfare  presently 
brought  to  all  alike  by  the  new  order,  meant  for  the  colored 
race  even  more  as  a  civilizing  agent  than  it  did  to  the  white 
population  which  relatively  had  been  further  advanced." 

"  There  would  have  been  in  some  parts,"  I  remarked,  "a 
strong  prejudice  on  the  part  of  the  white  population  against 
any  system  which  compelled  a  closer  commingling  of  the 
races." 

"  So  we  read,  but  there  was  absolutely  nothing  in  the 
new  system  to  offend  that  prejudice.  It  related  entirely  to 
economic  organization,  and  had  nothing  more  to  do  then 
than  it  has  now  with  social  relations.  Even  for  industrial 
purposes  the  new  system  involved  no  more  commingling 
of  races  than  the  old  had  done.  It  was  perfectly  consistent 
with  any  degree  of  race  separation  in  industry  which  the 
most  bigoted  local  prejudices  might  demand." 

HOW  THE   TRANSITION  MIGHT  HAVE   BEEN   HASTENED. 

"  There  is  just  one  point  about  the  transition  stage  that  I 
w^ant  to  go  back  to,"  I  said.  "  In  the  actual  case,  as  you  have 
stated  it,  it  seems  that  the  capitalists  held  on  to  their  capital 
and  continued  to  conduct  business  as  long  as  they  could  in- 
duce anybody  to  work  for  them  or  buy  of  them.  I  suppose 
that  was  human  nature — capitalist  human  nature  anyway; 
but  it  was  also  convenient  for  the  Revolution,  for  this  course 
gave  time  to  get  the  new  economic  system  perfected  as  a 
framework  before  the  strain  of  providing  for  the  whole 
people  was  thrown  on  it.  But  it  was  just  possible,  I  suppose, 
that  the  capitalists  might  have  taken  a  different  course. 
For  example,  suppose,  from  the  moment  the  popular  ma- 
jority gave  control  of  the  national  Government  to  the  revo- 
lutionists the  capitalists  had  with  one  accord  abandoned 
their  functions  and  refused  to  do  business  of  any  kind.  This, 
mind  you,  would  have  been  before  the  Government  had'  any 
time  to  organize  even  the  beginnings  of  the  new  system. 


366  EQUALITY. 

That  would  have  made  a  more  difficult  problem  to  deal 
with,  would  it  not  ? " 

"  I  do  not  think  that  the  problem  would  have  been  more 
difficult,"  replied  the  doctor,  "though  it  would  have  called 
for  more  prompt  and  summary  action.  The  Government 
would  have  had  two  things  to  do  and  to  do  at  once :  on  the 
one  hand,  to  take  up  and  carry  on  the  machinerj^  of  iDroduc- 
tive  industry  abandoned  by  the  capitalists,  and  simultane- 
ously to  provide  maintenance  for  the  people  pending  the 
time  when  the  new  product  should  become  available.  I  sup- 
pose that  as  to  the  matter  of  providing  for  the  maintenance 
of  the  people  the  action  taken  would  be  like  that  usually 
followed  by  a  government  when  by  flood,  famine,  siege,  or 
other  sudden  emergency  the  livelihood  of  a  whole  commu- 
nity has  been  endangered.  No  doubt  the  first  step  would 
have  been  to  requisition  for  public  use  all  stores  of  grain, 
clothing,  shoes,  and  commodities  in  general  throughout  the 
country,  excepting  of  course  reasonable  stocks  in  strictly  pri- 
vate use.  There  was  always  in  any  civilized  country  a  sup- 
ply ahead  of  these  necessities  sufficient  for  several  months  or 
a  year  which  would  be  many  times  more  than  would  be  need- 
ful to  bridge  over  the  gap  between  the  stoppage  of  the 
wheels  of  production  under  private  management  and  their 
getting  into  full  motion  under  public  administration.  Or- 
ders on  the  public  stores  for  food  and  clothing  would  have 
been  issued  to  all  citizens  making  application  and  enroll- 
ing themselves  in  the  public  industrial  service.  Meanwhile 
the  Grovernment  would  have  immediately  resumed  the 
operation  of  the  various  productive  enterprises  abandoned 
by  the  capitalists.  Everybody  previously  employed  in  them 
vfould  simply  have  kept  on,  and  employment  would  have 
been  as  rapidly  as  possible  x>rovided  for  those  who  had  for- 
merly been  without  it.  The  new  loroduct,  as  fast  as  made, 
would  be  turned  into  the  public  stores  and  the  process 
would,  in  fact,  have  been  just  the  same  as  that  I  have  de- 
scribed, save  that  it  would  have  gone  through  in  much 
quicker  time.  If  it  did  not  go  quite  so  smoothly  on  account 
of  the  necessary  haste,  on  the  other  hand  it  would  have  been 
done  with  sooner,  and  at  most  we  can  hardly  imagine  that  the 
inconvenience  and  hardship  to  the  people  would  have  been 


THE   TRANSITION  PERIOD.  3^7 

greater  than  resulted  from  even  a  mild  specimen  of  the  busi- 
ness crises  which  your  contemporaries  thought  necessary 
every  seven  years,  and  toward  the  last  of  the  old  order  be- 
came perpetual. 

HOW  CAPITALIST  COERCION  OF   EMPLOYEES  WAS  MET. 

"Your  question,  however,"  continued  the  doctor,  "re- 
minds me  of  another  point  which  I  had  forgotten  to  men- 
tion— namely,  the  provisional  methods  of  furnishing  em- 
ployment for  the  unemployed  before  the  organization  of  the 
complete  national  system  of  industry.  What  your  contem- 
poraries were  pleased  to  call  '  the  problem  of  the  unem- 
ployed' — namely,  the  necessary  effect  of  the  profit  system  to 
create  and  perpetuate  an  unemployed  class — had  been  in- 
creasing in  magnitude  from  the  beginning  of  the  revolution- 
ary period,  and  toward  the  close  of  the  century  the  involun- 
tary idlers  were  numbered  by  millions.  While  this  state  of 
things  on  the  one  hand  furnished  a  powerful  argument  for 
the  revolutionary  propaganda  by  the  object  lesson  it  fur- 
nished of  the  incompetence  of  private  capitalism  to  solve 
the  problem  of  national  maintenance,  on  the  other  hand,  in 
proportion  as  em^Dloyment  became  hard  to  get,  the  hold  of 
the  employers  over  the  actual  and  would-be  employees  be- 
came strengthened.  Those  who  had  employment  and  feared 
to  lose  it,  and  those  who  had  it  not  but  hoped  to  get  it,  be- 
came, through  fear  and  hope,  very  pui)pets  in  the  hands  of 
the  employing  class  and  cast  their  votes  at  their  bidding. 
Election  after  election  was  carried  in  this  way  by  the  capi- 
talists through  their  power  to  compel  the  w^orkingman  to 
vote  the  capitalist  ticket  against  his  own  convictions,  from 
the  fear  of  losing  or  hope  of  obtaining  an  opportunity  to 
work. 

"  This  was  the  situation  which  made  it  necessary  previous 
to  the  conquest  of  the  General  Government  by  the  revolu- 
tionary party,  in  order  that  the  workingmen  should  be 
made  free  to  vote  for  their  own  deliverance,  that  at  least  a 
provisional  system  of  employment  should  be  established 
whereby  the  wage-earner  might  be  insured  a  livelihood 
when  unable  to  find  a  private  employer. 

"  In  different  States  of  the  Union,  as  the  revolutionary 


368  EQUALITY. 

party  came  into  power,  slightly  diflPerent  methods  were 
adopted  for  roeeting  this  emergency.  The  crude  and  waste- 
ful makeshift  of  indiscriminate  employment  on  public 
works,  w^hich  had  been  previously  adopted  by  governments 
in  dealing  with  similar  emergencies,  would  not  stand  the 
criticism  of  the  new  economic  science.  A  more  intelli- 
gent method  was  necessary  and  easily  found.  The  usual 
plan,  though  varied  in  different  localities,  was  for  the 
State  to  guarantee  to  every  citizen  who  applied  therefor  the 
means  of  maintenance,  to  be  paid  for  in  his  or  her  labor,  and 
to  be  taken  in  the  form  of  commodities  and  lodgings,  these 
commodities  and  lodgings  being  themselves  produced  and 
maintained  by  the  sum  of  the  labor  of  those,  past  and  present, 
who  shared  them.  The  necessary  imported  commodities  or 
raw  materials  were  obtained  by  the  sale  of  the  excess  of 
product  at  market  rates,  a  special  market  being  also  found 
in  the  consumption  of  the  State  prisons,  asylums,  etc.  This 
system,  whereby  the  State  enabled  the  otherwise  unem- 
ployed mutually  to  maintain  themselves  by  merely  furnish- 
ing the  machinery  and  superintendence,  came  very  largely 
into  use  to  meet  the  emergencies  of  the  transition  period,  and 
played  an  important  part  in  preparing  the  people  for  the 
new  order,  of  which  it  was  in  an  imperfect  way  a  sort  of 
anticipation.  In  some  of  these  State  establishments  for  the 
unemployed  the  circle  of  industries  was  remarkably  com- 
plete, and  the  whole  product  of  their  labor  above  expenses 
being  shared  among  the  workers,  they  enjoyed  far  better 
fare  than  when  in  private  employment,  together  with  a 
sense  of  security  then  impossible.  The  employer's  power  to 
control  his  workmen  by  the  threat  of  discharge  was  broken 
from  the  time  these  co-operative  systems  began  to  be  estab- 
lished, and  when,  later,  the  national  industrial  organization 
was  ready  to  absorb  them,  they  merely  melted  into  it." 

HOW  ABOUT  THE   WOMEN  ? 

"  How  about  the  women  ? "  I  said.  "  Do  I  understand 
that,  from  the  first  organization  of  the  industrial  public 
service  on  a  complete  scale,  the  w^omen  were  expected,  like 
the  men,  if  physically  able,  to  take  their  places  in  the 
ranks  ? " 


THE  TRANSITION   PERIOD.  369 

"Wliere  women  were  sufficiently  employed  already  in 
housework  in  their  own  families,"  replied  the  doctor  '  they 
were  recognized  as  rendering  public  service  unt.l  he  new 
To-operative  housekeeping  was  sufficiently  systematized  to 
do  away  with  the  necessity  of  separate  kitchens  and  other 
elaboral  domestic  machinery  for  each  family.  Otherwise, 
CKcept  as  occasions  for  exemption  existed,  women  took  their 
place  from  the  beginning  of  the  new  order  as  units  m  the 
industrial  state  on  the  same  basis  with  men. 

"If  the  Revolution  had  come  a  hundred  years  before, 
when  as  yet  women  had  no  other  vocation  but  housework,  the 
change  hi  customs  might  have  been  a  striking  one,  but 
already  at  that  time  women  had  made  themselves  a  place 
hitheidustrial  and  business  world,  and  by  the  time  the 
Revolution  came  it  was  rather  exceptional  when  unmarried 
women  not  of  the  rich  and  idle  class  did  not  have  some  reg- 
ular occupation  outside  the  home.  In  recognizing  women  as 
equally  eligible  and  liable  to  public  service  with  men,  the 
new  order  simply  confirmed  to  the  women  workers  the  in- 
dependence they  had  already  won." 

"  But  how  about  the  married  women  ? 
"  Of  course  "  replied  the  doctor,  "  there  would  be  consid- 
erable periods  during  which  married  women  and  mothers 
would  naturally  be  wholly  exempt  from  the  performance  of 
anv  public  duty.    But  except  at  such  times  there  seems  to 
be  notliing  in  the  nature  of  the  sexual  relation  constituting, 
a  reason  ^hy  a  married  woman  should  lead  a  more  secluded 
and  useless  life  than  a  man.     In  this  matter  of  the  place  o 
women  under  the  new  order,  you  must  understand  that  it 
was  the  women  themselves,  rather  than  the  men,  who  in- 
sisted that  they  must  share  in  full  the  duties  as  well  as 
the  privileges  of  citizenship.    The  men  would  not  have  de- 
manded it  of  them.    In  this  respect  you  must  remember 
that  during  its  whole  course  the  Revolution  had  been  contem- 
porary with  a  movement  for  the  enlargement  and  greater 
freedom  of  women's  lives,  and  their  equalization  as  to  rights 
and  duties  with  men.    The  women,  married  as  well  as  un- 
married, had  become  thoroughly  tired  of  being  effaced^  and 
were  in  full  revolt  against  the  headship  of  man     If  the  Revo- 
lution had  not  guaranteed  the  equality  and  comradeship 


370  EQUALITY. 

with  liim  which  she  was  fast  conquering  under  the  old  or- 
der, it  could  never  have  counted  on  her  support." 

"  But  how  about  the  care  of  children,  of  the  home,  etc.  ? " 
"  Certainly  the  mothers  could  have  been  trusted  to  see 
that  nothing  interfered  with  the  welfare  of  their  children, 
nor  was  there  anything  in  the  public  service  expected  of 
them  that  need  do  so.  There  is  nothing  in  the  maternal 
function  which  establishes  such  a  relation  between  mother 
and  child  as  need  permanently  interfere  with  her  perform- 
ance of  social  and  public  duties,  nor  indeed  does  it  appear 
that  it  was  allowed  to  do  so  in  your  day  by  women  of  suffi- 
cient economic  means  to  command  needed  assistance.  The 
fact  that  women  of  the  masses  so  often  found  it  necessary 
to  abandon  an  independent  existence,  and  cease  to  live  any 
more  for  themselves  the  moment  they  had  children,  was  sim- 
ply a  mark  of  the  imperfection  of  your  social  ari*angements, 
and  not  a  natural  or  moral  necessity.  So,  too,  as  to  Avhat 
you  call  caring  for  a  home.  As  soon  as  co-operative  meth- 
ods were  applied  to  housekeeping,  and  its  various  depart- 
ments were  systematized  as  branches  of  tlie  i3ublic  service, 
the  former  housewife  had  perforce  to  find  another  vocation 
in  order  to  keep  herself  busy." 

THE    LODGINGS   QUESTION. 

"  Talking  about  housework,"  I  said,  "  how  did  they  man- 
age about  houses  ?  There  were,  of  course,  not  enough  good 
lodgings  to  go  around,  now  that  all  were  economic  equals. 
How  was  it  settled  who  should  have  the  good  houses  and 
who  the  poor  ? " 

"As  I  have  said,"  replied  the  doctor,  "the  controlling 
idea  of  the  revolutionary  policy  at  the  climax  of  the  Revo- 
lution was  not  to  complicate  the  general  readjustment  by 
making  any  changes  at  that  time  not  necessary  to  its  main 
purpose.  For  the  vast  number  of  the  badly  housed  the 
building  of  better  houses  was  one  of  the  first  and  greatest 
tasks  of  the  nation.  As  to  the  habitable  houses,  they  were 
all  assessed  at  a  graduated  rental  according  to  size  and 
desirability,  which  their  former  occupants,  if  they  desired 
to  keep  them,  were  expected  to  pay  out  of  their  new  in- 
comes as  citizens.     For  a  modest  house  the  rent  was  nomi- 


THE  TRANSITION  PERIOD.  371 

nal,but  for  a  great  house. — one  of  the  palaces  of  the  million- 
aires, for  instance — the  rent  was  so  large  that  no  individual 
could  pay  it,  and  indeed  no  individual  without  a  host  of 
servants  would  be  able  to  occupy  it,  and  these,  of  course,  he 
had  no  means  of  employing.  Such  buildings  had  to  be 
used  as  hotels,  apartment  houses,  or  for  public  purposes.  It 
would  appear  that  nobodj'^  changed  dwellings  except  the 
very  poor,  whose  houses  were  unfit  for  habitation,  and  the 
very  rich,  who  could  make  no  use  of  their  former  habita- 
tion under  the  changed  condition  of  things.'' 

WHEN  ECONOMIC   EQUALITY  WAS    FULLY   REALIZED. 

"  There  is  one  point  not  quite  clear  in  my  mind,"  I  said, 
"  and  that  is  just  when  the  guarantee  of  equal  maintenance 
for  all  citizens  went  into  effect." 

'"I  suppose,"  replied  the  doctor,  "that  it  must  have  been 
when,  after  the  final  collapse  of  what  was  left  of  private 
capitalism,  the  nation  assumed  the  responsibility  of  provid- 
ing for  all  the  people.  Until  then  the  organization  of  the 
public  service  had  been  on  the  wage  basis,  which  indeed 
was  the  only  practicable  way  of  initiating  the  plan  of  uni- 
versal public  employment  while  yet  the  mass  of  business 
was  conducted  by  the  capitalists,  and  the  new^  and  rising 
system  had  to  be  accommodated  at  so  many  points  to  the 
existing  order  of  things.  The  tremendous  rate  at  w^iich  the 
membership  of  the  national  industrial  army  was  growing 
from  week  to  week  during  the  transition  period  would  have 
made  it  impossible  to  find  any  basis  of  equal  distribution 
that  would  hold  good  for  a  fortnight.  The  policy  of  the 
Government  had,  however,  been  to  prepare  the  workers  for 
equal  sharing  by  establishing,  as  far  as  possible,  a  level 
wage  for  all  kinds  of  public  employees.  This  it  was  pos- 
sible to  do,  owing  to  the  cheapening  of  all  sorts  of  com- 
modities by  the  abolition  of  profits,  without  reducing  any 
one's  income. 

"  For  example,  suppose  one  workman  had  received  two 
dollars  a  day,  and  another  a  dollar  and  a  half.  Owing  to 
the  cheapening  of  goods  in  the  public  stores,  these  wages 
presently  purchased  twice  as  much  as  before.  But,  instead 
of  permitting  the  virtual  increase  of  wages  to  operate  by 


372  EQUALITY. 

multiplication,  so  as  to  double  the  original  discrepancy  be- 
tween the  pay  of  the  two,  it  was  applied  by  equal  additions 
to  the  account  of  each.  While  both  alike  w^ere  better  olT 
than  before,  the  disproportion  in  their  welfare  was  thus  re- 
duced. Nor  could  the  one  previously  more  highly  paid  ob- 
ject to  this  as  unfair,  because  the  increased  value  of  his 
wages  was  not  the  result  of  his  own  efforts,  but  of  the  new 
public  organization,  from  which  he  could  only  ask  an  equal 
benefit  with  all  others.  Thus  by  the  time  the  nation  was 
ready  for  equal  sharing,  a  substantially  level  wage,  secured 
by  leveling  up,  not  leveling  down,  had  alreadj-  been  estab- 
lished. As  to  the  high  salaries  of  special  employees,  out  of 
all  proportion  to  workmen's  wages,  which  obtained  under 
private  capitalism,  they  were  ruthlessly  cut  down  in  the  pub- 
lic service  from  the  inception  of  the  revolutionary  policy. 

"  But  of  course  the  most  radical  innovation  in  establish- 
ing universal  economic  equality  was  not  the  establishment 
of  a  level  w^age  as  between  the  w^orkers,  but  the  admission 
of  the  entire  population,  both  of  w^orkers  and  of  those  unable 
to  work  or  past  the  w^orking  age,  to  an  equal  share  in  the 
national  product.  During  the  transition  period  the  Govern- 
ment had  of  necessity  proceeded  like  a  capitalist  in  respect 
to  recognizing  and  dealing  only  with  effective  workers.  It 
took  no  more  cognizance  of  the  existence  of  the  women,  ex- 
cept when  workers,  or  the  children,  or  the  old,  or  the  infirm, 
crippled,  or  sick,  or  other  dependents  on  the  workers  than 
the  capitalists  had  been  in  the  habit  of  doing.  But  w^hen 
the  nation  gathered  into  its  hands  the  entire  economic 
resources  of  the  country  it  proceeded  to  administer  them  on 
the  principle — proclaimed,  indeed,  in  the  great  Declaration, 
but  practically  mocked  by  the  former  republic — that  all 
human  beings  have  an  equal  right  to  liberty,  life,  and  happi- 
ness, and  that  governments  rightfully  exist  only  for  the 
purpose  of  making  good  that  right — a  principle  of  which 
the  first  practical  consequence  ought  to  be  the  guarantee 
to  all  on  equal  terms  of  the  economic  basis.  Thenceforth 
all  adult  persons  w^lio  could  render  any  useful  service  to 
the  nation  were  required  to  do  so  if  they  desired  to  enjoy 
the  benefits  of  the  economic  system  ;  but  all  who  acknowl- 
edged the  new  order,  whether  they  were  able  or  unable  to 


THE  TRANSITION   PERIOD.  373 

render  any  economic  service,  received  an  equal  share  with 
all  others  of  the  national  product,  and  such  provision  was 
made  for  the  needs  of  children  as  should  absolutely  safe- 
guard their  interests  from  the  neglect  or  caprice  of  selfish 
parents. 

"  Of  course,  the  immediate  effect  must  have  been  that  the 
active  workers  received  a  less  income  than  when  they  had 
been  the  only  sharers  ;  but  if  they  had  been  good  men  and 
distributed  their  wages  as  they  ought  among  those  depend- 
ent on  them,  they  still  had  for  their  personal  use  quite  as 
much  as  before.  Only  those  wage-earners  who  had  for- 
merly had  none  dependent  on  them  or  had  neglected  them 
suffered  any  curtailment  of  income,  and  they  deserved  to. 
But  indeed  there  was  no  question  of  curtailment  for  more 
than  a  very  short  time  for  any ;  for,  as  soon  .as  the  now 
completed  economic  organization  was  fairly  in  motion, 
everybody  was  kept  too  busy  devising  ways  to  expend  his 
or  her  own  allowance  to  give  any  thought  to  that  of  others. 
Of  course,  the  equalizing  of  the  economic  maintenance  of 
all  on  the  basis  of  citizenship  x^ut  a  final  end  to  the  em  pi  03^- 
ment  of  private  servants,  even  if  the  practice  had  lasted  till 
then,  which  is  doubtful ;  for  if  any  one  desired  a  personal 
servant  he  must  henceforth  pay  him  as  much  as  he  could 
receive  in  the  public  service,  which  would  be  equivalent  to 
the  whole  income  of  the  would-be  employer,  leaving  him 
nothing  for  himself." 

THE   FINAL  SETTLEMENT  WITH   THE   CAPITALISTS. 

"There  is  one  point,"  I  said,  "on  which  I  should  like  to 
be  a  little  more  clearly  informed.  When  the  nation  finally 
took  possession  absolutely  in  perpetuity  of  all  the  lands, 
machinery,  and  capital  after  the  final  collapse  of  private 
capitalism,  there  must  have  been  doubtless  some  sort  of  final 
settling  and  balancing  of  accounts  between  the  people  and 
the  capitalists  whose  former  i^roperties  had  been  nation- 
alized. How  was  that  managed  ?  What  was  the  basis  of 
final  settlement  ? " 

"The  people  waived  a  settlement,"  replied  the  doctor. 
"  The  guillotine,  the  gallows,  and  the  firing  platoon  played 
no  part  in  the  consummation  of  the  gi'eat  Revolution. 
25 


37i  EQUALITY. 

During  the  previous  phases  of  the  revolutionary  agitation 
there  had  indeed  been  much  bitter  talk  of  the  reckoning 
which  the  people  in  the  hour  of  their  triumph  would  de- 
mand of  the  capitalists  for  the  cruel  past;  but  when  the 
hour  of  triumph  came,  the  enthusiasm  of  humanity  which 
glorified  it  extinguished  the  fires  of  hate  and  took  away  all 
desire  of  barren  vengeance.  No,  there  was  no  settlement 
demanded  ;  the  people  forgave  the  past." 

"  Doctor,"  I  said,  "  you  have  sufficiently — in  fact,  over- 
whelmingly— answered  my  question,  and  all  the  more  so 
because  you  did  not  catch  my  meaning.  Eemember  that  I 
represent  the  mental  and  moral  condition  of  the  average 
American  capitalist  in  1887.  What  I  meant  was  to  inquire 
what  compensation  the  people  made  to  the  capitalists  for 
nationalizing  what  had  been  their  property.  Evidently, 
however,  from  the  twentieth-century  point  of  view,  if  there 
were  to  be  any  final  settlement  between  the  people  and  the 
capitalists  it  was  the  former  who  had  the  bill  to  present." 

"  I  rather  pride  myself,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  in  keeping 
track  of  your  point  of  view  and  distinguishing  it  from  ours, 
but  I  confess  that  time  I  fairly  missed  the  cue.  You  see,  as 
we  look  back  upon  the  Revolution,  one  of  -its  most  impres- 
sive features  seems  to  be  the  vast  magnanimity  of  the  people 
at  the  moment  of  their  complete  triumph  in  according  a 
free  quittance  to  their  former  oppressors. 

"Do  you  not  see  that  if  private  capitalism  was  right, 
then  the  Revolution  was  wrong ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  if 
the  Revolution  was  right,  then  private  capitalism  was  wrong, 
and  the  greatest  wrong  that  ever  existed ;  and  in  that  case 
it  was  the  capitalists  who  owed  reparation  to  the  people  they 
had  wronged,  rather  than  the  people  who  owed  compensa- 
tion to  the  capitalists  for  taking  from  them  the  means  of 
that  wrong  ?  For  the  people  to  have  consented  on  any  terms 
to  buy  their  freedom  from  their  former  masters  would  have 
been  to  admit  the  justice  of  their  former  bondage.  When 
insurgent  slaves  triumph,  they  are  not  in  the  habit  of  pay- 
ing their  former  masters  the  price  of  the  shackles  and  fetters 
they  have  broken  ;  the  masters  usually  consider  themselves 
fortunate  if  they  do  not  have  their  heads  broken  with  them. 
Had  the  question  of  compensating  the  capitalists  been  raised 


THE  TRANSITION  PERIOD.  375 

at  the  time  we  are  speaking  of,  it  would  have  been  an  unfor- 
tunate issue  for  them.  To  their  question,  Who  was  to  pay 
them  for  what  the  people  had  taken  from  them  ?  the  response 
would  have  been,  Who  was  to  pay  the  people  for  what  the 
capitalist  system  had  taken  from  them  and  their  ancestors, 
the  light  of  life  and  liberty  and  happiness  which  it  had  shut 
off  from  unnumbered  generations  ?  That  was  an  account- 
ing which  would  have  gone  so  deep  and  reached  back  so  far 
that  the  debtors  might  well  be  glad  to  waive  it.  In  tak- 
ing possession  of  the  earth  and  all  the  works  of  man  that 
stood  upon  it,  the  people  were  but  reclaiming  their  own 
heritage  and  the  work  of  their  own  hands,  kept  back  from 
them  by  fraud.  When  the  rightful  heirs  come  to  their  own, 
the  unjust  stewards  who  kept  them  out  of  their  inheritance 
may  deem  themselves  mercifully  dealt  with  if  the  new  mas- 
ters are  willing  to  let  bygones  be  bygones. 

"But  while  the  idea  of  compensating  the  capitalists  for 
putting  an  end  to  their  oppression  would  have  been  ethically 
absurd,  you  will  scarcely  get  a  full  conception  of  the  situa- 
tion without  considering  that  any  such  compensation  was 
in  the  nature  of  the  case  impossible.  To  have  compensated 
the  capitalists  in  any  practical  way— that  is,  any  way  which 
would  have  preserved  to  them  under  the  new  order  any 
economic  equivalent  for  their  former  holdings— would  have 
necessarily  been  to  set  up  private  capitalism  over  again  in 
the  very  act  of  destroying  it,  thus  defeating  and  stultifying 
the  ReYolution  in  the  moment  of  its  triumph. 

"  You  see  that  this  last  and  greatest  of  revolutions  in  the 
nature  of  the  case  absolutely  differed  from  all  former  ones 
in  the  finality  and  completeness  of  its  work.  In  all  previ- 
ous instances  in  which  governments  had  abolished  or  con- 
verted to  public  use  forms  of  property  in  the  hands  of  citi- 
zens it  had  been  possible  to  compensate  them  in  some  other 
kind  of  property  through  which  their  former  economic  ad- 
vantage should  be  perpetuated  under  a  different  form.  For 
example,  in  condemning  lands  it  was  possible  to  pay  for 
them  in  money,  and  in  abolishing  property  in  men  it  was 
possible  to  pay  for  the  slaves,  so  that  the  previous  superiori- 
ty or  privilege  held  by  the  property  owner  was  not  destroyed 
outright,  but  merely  translated,  so  to  speak,  into  other  terms. 


376  EQUALITY. 

But  the  great  Revolution,  aiming-  as  it  did  at  the  final  de- 
struction of  all  forms  of  advantage,  dominion,  or  privilege 
among  men,  left  no  g"uise  or  mode  possible  under  which  the 
capitalist  could  continue  to  exercise  his  former  superiority. 
All  the  modes  under  which  in  past  time  men  had  exercised 
dominion  over  their  fellows  had  been  by  one  revolution 
after  another  reduced  to  the  single  form  of  economic  superi- 
ority, and  now  that  this  last  incarnation  of  the  spirit  of  self- 
ish dominion  was  to  perish  there  was  no  further  refuge  for 
it.  The  ultimate  mask  torn  off,  it  was  left  to  wither  in  the 
face  of  the  sun." 

"  Your  explanation  leaves  me  nothing  further  to  ask  as 
to  the  matter  of  a  final  settling  between  the  people  and  the 
capitalists,"  I  said.  ''  Still,  I  have  understood  that  in  the  first 
steps  toward  the  substitution  of  public  business  management 
for  private  capitalism,  consisting  in  the  nationalizing  or 
municipalizing  of  quasi  public  services,  such  as  gas  works, 
railroads,  telegi^aphs,  etc.,  some  theory  of  compensation  was 
followed.  Public  opinion,  at  that  stage  not  having  accepted 
the  whole  revolutionary  programme,  must  probably  have 
insisted  upon  this  practice.    Just  when  was  it  discontinued  ? ' 

"You  will  readily  perceive,"  replied  the  doctor,  "that  in 
measure  as  it  became  generally  recognized  that  economic 
equality  was  at  hand,  it  began  to  seem  farcical  to  pay  the 
capitalists  for  their  possessions  in  forms  of  wealth  which 
must  presently,  as  all  knew,  become  valueless.  So  it  was 
that,  as  the  Revolution  approached  its  consummation,  the  idea 
of  buying  the  capitalists  out  gave  place  to  plans  for  safe- 
guarding them  from  unnecessary  hardships  pending  the 
transition  period.  All  the  businesses  of  the  class  you  speak 
of  which  were  taken  over  by  the  people  in  the  early  stages  of 
the  revolutionary  agitation,  were  paid  for  in  money  or  bonds, 
and  usually  at  prices  most  favorable  to  the  capitalists.  As 
to  the  greater  plants,  which  were  taken  over  later,  such  as 
railroads  and  the  mines,  a  different  course  was  followed. 
By  the  time  public  opinion  was  ripe  for  these  steps,  it  be- 
gan to  be  recognized  by  the  dullest  that  it  was  possible,  even 
if  not  probable,  that  the  revolutionary  programme  would  go 
completely  through,  and  all  forms  of  monetary  value  or 
obligation  become  waste  paper.     With  this  prospect  the 


THE  TRANSITION  PERIOD.  377 

capitalists  owning  the  properties  were  naturally  not  particu- 
larly desirous  of  taking  national  bonds  for  them  which 
would  have  been  the  natural  form  of  compensation  had  they 
been  bought  outright.  Even  if  the  capitalists  had  been 
willing  to  take  the  bonds,  the  people  would  never  have  con- 
sented to  increase  the  public  debt  by  the  five  or  six  billions 
of  bonds  that  w^ould  have  been  necessary  to  carry  out  the 
purchase.  Neither  the  railroads  nor  the  mines  were  therefore 
purchased  at  all.  It  was  their  management,  not  their  own- 
ership, which  had  excited  the  public  indignation  and  created 
the  demand  for  their  nationalization.  It  was  their  manage- 
ment, therefore,  w^hich  was  nationalized,  their  ownership 
remaining  undisturbed. 

"  That  is  to  say,  the  Governmeut,  on  the  high  ground  of 
public  policy  and  for  the  correction  of  grievances  that  had 
become  intolerable,  assumed  the  exclusive  and  perpetual 
management  and  operation  of  the  railroad  lines.  An  honest 
valuation  of  the  plants  having  been  made,  the  earnings,  if 
any,  up  to  a  reasonable  percentage,  w^ere  paid  over  to  the 
security  holders.  This  arrangement  answ^ered  the  pui'pose 
of  delivering  the  people  and  the  security  holders  alike  from 
the  extortions  and  mismanagement  of  the  former  private 
operators,  and  at  the  same  time  brought  a  million  rail- 
road employees  into  the  public  service  and  the  enjoyment  of 
all  its  benefits  quite  as  effectively  as  if  the  lines  had  been 
bought  outright.  A  similar  plan  was  followed  w^ith  the  coal 
and  other  mines.  This  combination  of  private  ownership 
with  public  management  continued  until,  the  Revolution 
having  been  consummated,  all  the  capital  of  the  country 
w^as  nationalized  by  comprehensive  enactment. 

"The  general  principle  which  governed  the  revolution- 
ary policy  in  dealing  with  property  owners  of  all  sorts  was 
that  while  the  distribution  of  property  w^as  essentially  un- 
just and  existing  property  rights  morally  invalid,  and  as 
soon  as  possible  a  wholly  new  system  should  be  estab- 
lished, yet  that,  until  the  new  system  of  property  could  as  a 
w^hole  replace  the  existing  one,  the  legal  rights  of  property 
owners  ought  to  be  respected,  and  when  overruled  in  the 
public  interest  proper  provisioii  should  be  made  to  prevent 
hardship.    The  means  of  private  maintenance  should  not, 


378  EQUALITY. 

that  is  to  say,  be  taken  away  from  any  one  until  the  guar- 
antee of  maintenance  from  public  sources  could  take  its 
place.  The  application  of  this  principle  by  the  revolution- 
ists seems  to  have  been  extremely  logical,  clean  cut,  and 
positive.  The  old  law  of  proj)erty,  bad  as  it  was,  they  did 
not  aim  to  abolish  in  the  name  of  license,  spoliation,  and 
confusion,  but  in  the  name  of  a  stricter  and  more  logical 
as  well  as  more  righteous  law.  In  the  most  flourishing  days 
of  capitalism,  stealing,  so  called,  was  never  repressed  more 
sternly  than  up  to  the  very  eve  of  the  complete  introduction 
of  the  new  system. 

"  To  sum  up  the  case  in  a  word,"  I  suggested,  "  it  seems 
that  in  passing  from  the  old  order  into  the  new  it  neces- 
sarily fared  with  the  rich*  as  it  did  when  they  passed  out  of 
this  world  into  the  next.  In  one  case,  as  in  the  other,  they 
just  absolutely  had  to  leave  their  money  behind  them." 

"The  illustration  is  really  very  apt,"  laughed  the  doctor, 
"  except  in  one  important  particular.  It  has  been  rumored 
that  the  change  w^hich  Dives  made  from  this  world  to  the 
next  was  an  unhappy  one  for  him  ;  but  within  half  a  dozen 
years  after  the  new  economic  system  had  been  in  operation 
there  was  not  an  ex-millionaire  of  the  lot  Avho  was  not  ready 
to  admit  that  life  had  been  made  as  much  better  worth  liv- 
ing for  him  and  his  class  as  for  the  rest  of  the  community." 

"  Did  the  new  order  get  into  full  running  condition  so 
quickly  as  that  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Of  course,  it  could  not  get  into  perfect  order  as  you  see 
it  now  for  many  years.  The  personnel  of  any  community 
is  the  prime  factor  in  its  economic  efficiency,  and  not  until 
the  first  generation  born  under  the  new  order  had  come  to 
maturity — a  generation  of  which  every  member  had  received 
the  highest  intellectual  and  industrial  training — did  the  eco- 
nomic order  fully  show  what  it  was  capable  of.  But  not  ten 
nor  two  years  had  elapsed  from  the  time  when  the  national 
Government  took  all  the  people  into  employment  on  the 
basis  of  equal  sharing  in  the  product  before  the  system 
showed  results  which  overwhelmed  the  world  with  amaze- 
ment. The  partial  system  of  public  industries  and  public 
stores  which  the  Government  had  already  undertaken  had 
given  the  people  some  intimation  of  the  cheapening  of  prod- 


THE  TRANSITION  PERIOD.  379 

ucts  and  improvement  in  their  quality  which  might  follow 
from  the  abolition  of  profits  even  under  a  wage  system,  but 
not  until  the  entire  economic  system  had  been  nationalized 
and  all  co-operated  for  a  common  weal  was  it  possible  com- 
pletely to  pool  the  product  and  share  it  equally.  No  previ- 
ous experience  had  therefore  prepared  the  public  for  the 
prodigious  efficiency  of  the  new  economic  enginery.  The 
j)€ople  had  thought  the  reformers  made  rather  large  prom- 
ises as  to  what  the  new  system  would  do  in  the  way  of 
wealth-making,  but  now  they  charged  them  of  keeping  back 
the  truth.  And  yet  the  result  was  one  that  need  not  have 
surprised  any  one  who  had  taken  the  trouble  to  calculate  the 
economic  effect  of  the  change  in  systems.  The  incalculable 
increase  of  wealth  which  but  for  the  profit  system  the  great 
inventions  of  the  century  would  long  before  have  brought 
the  world,  was  being  reaped  in  a  long-postponed  but  over- 
whelming harvest. 

"The  difficulty  under  the  profit  system  had  been  to  avoid 
producing  too  much  ;  the  difficulty  under  the  equal  shar- 
ing system  was  how  to  produce  enough.  The  smallness  of 
demand  had  before  limited  supply,  but  supply  had  now  set 
to  it  an  unlimited  task.  Under  private  capitalism  demand 
had  been  a  dwarf  and  lame  at  that,  and  yet  this  cripple  had 
been  pace-maker  for  the  giant  production.  National  co- 
operation had  put  wings  on  the  dwarf  and  shod  the  cripple 
with  Mercury's  sandals.  Henceforth  the  giant  would  need 
all  his  strength,  all  his  thews  of  steel  and  sinews  of  brass 
even,  to  keep  him  in  sight  as  he  flitted  on  before. 

"  It  would  be  difficult  to  give  you  an  idea  of  the  tremen- 
dous burst  of  industrial  energy  with  which  the  rejuvenated 
nation  on  the  morrow  of  the  Revolution  threw  itself  into 
the  task  of  uplifting  the  welfare  of  all  classes  to  a  level 
where  the  former  rich  man  might  find  in  sharing  the  com- 
mon lot  nothing  to  regret.  Nothing  like  the  Titanic  achieve- 
ment by  which  this  result  was  effected  had  ever  before  been 
known  in  human  history,  and  nothing  like  it  seems  likely 
ever  to  occur  again.  In  the  past  there  had  not  been  work 
enough  for  the  people.  Millions,  some  rich,  some  poor,  some 
willingly,  some  unwillingly,  had  always  been  idle,  and  not 
only  that,  but  half  the  work  that  was  done  was  wasted  in 


380  EQUALITY. 

competition  or  in  producing  luxuries  to  gratify  the  secondary- 
wants  of  the  few,  while  yet  the  primary  wants  of  the  mass 
remained  unsatisfied.  Idle  machinery  equal  to  the  power 
of  other  millions  of  men,  idle  land,  idle  capital  of  every 
sort,  mocked  the  need  of  the  peojDle.  Now,  all  at  once  there 
were  not  hands  enough  in  the  country,  wheels  enough  in 
the  machinery,  power  enough  in  steam  and  electricity,  liours 
enough  in  the  day,  days  enough  in  the  week,  for  the  vast 
task  of  preparing  the  basis  of  a  comfortable  existence  for  all. 
For  not  until  all  were  well-to-do,  well  housed,  well  clothed, 
well  fed,  might  any  be  so  under  the  new  order  of  things. 

"It  is  said  that  in  the  first  full  year  after  the  new  order 
was  established  the  total  product  of  the  country  was  tripled, 
and  in  the  second  the  first  year's  product  was  doubled,  and 
every  bit  of  it  consumed. 

"  While,  of  course,  the  improvement  in  the  material  w^el- 
fare  of  the  nation  was  the  most  notable  feature  in  the  first 
years  after  the  Revolution,  simply  because  it  was  the  place 
at  w^hich  any  improvement  must  begin,  yet  the  ennobling 
and  softening  of  manners  and  the  growth  of  geniality  in 
social  intercourse  are  said  to  have  been  changes  scarcely  less 
notable.  While  the  class  differences  inherited  from  the 
former  order  in  point  of  habits,  education,  and  culture  must, 
of  course,  continue  to  mark  and  in  a  measure  separate  the 
members  of  the  generation  then  on  the  stage,  yet  the  cer- 
tain knowledge  that  the  basis  of  these  differences  had  passed 
away  forever,  and  that  the  children  of  all  would  mingle  not 
only  upon  terms  of  economic  equality,  but  of  moral,  intel- 
lectual, and  social  sympathy,  and  entire  community  of  in- 
terest, seems  to  have  had  a  strong  anticipatory  influence  in 
bringing  together  in  a  sentiment  of  essential  brotherhood 
those  who  were  too  far  on  in  life  to  expect  to  see  the  full 
promise  of  the  Revolution  realized. 

"One  other  matter  is  w^orth  speaking  of,  and  that  is 
the  effect  almost  at  once  of  the  universal  and  abounding 
material  prosperity  w4iich  the  nation  had  entered  on  to 
make  the  people  forget  all  about  the  importance  they  had 
so  lately  attached  to  petty  differences  in  pay  and  wages  and 
salary.  In  the  old  days  of  general  poverty,  when  a  suffi- 
ciency was  so  hard  to  come  by,  a  difference  in  wages  of  fifty 


THE   BOOK   OF   THE   BLIND.  3S1 

cents  or  a  dollar  had  seemed  so  great  to  the  artisan  that  it 
was  hard  for  him  to  accept  the  idea  of  an  economic  equality 
in  which  such  important  distinctions  should  disappear.  It 
was  quite  natural  that  it  should  be  so.  Men  fight  for  crusts 
when  they  are  starving,  but  they  do  not  quarrel  over  bread 
at  a  banquet  table.  Somewhat  so  it  befell  when  in  the 
years  after  the  Revolution  material  abundance  and  all  the 
comforts  of  life  came  to  be  a  matter  of  course  for  every  one, 
and  storing  for  the  future  was  needless.  Then  it  was  that 
the  hunger  motive  died  out  of  human  nature  and  covetous- 
ness  as  to  material  things,  mocked  to  death  by  abundance, 
perished  by  atrophy,  and  the  motives  of  the  modern  worker, 
the  love  of  honor,  the  joy  of  beneficence,  the  delight  of  achieve- 
ment, and  the  enthusiasm  of  humanity,  became  the  impulses 
of  the  economic  world.  Labor  was  glorified,  and  the  cring- 
ing wage-slave  of  the  nineteenth  century  stood  forth  trans- 
figured as  the  knight  of  humanity." 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

THE   BOOK   OF   THE   BLIND. 

If  the  reader  were  to  judge  merely  from  what  has  been 
set  down  in  these  pages  he  would  be  likely  to  infer  that  my 
most  absorbing  interest  during  these  days  I  am  endeavor- 
ing to  recall  was  the  study  of  the  political  economy  and 
social  philosophy  of  the  modern  world,  which  I  was  pur- 
suing under  the  direction  of  Dr.  Leete.  That,  however, 
would  be  a  great  mistake.  Full  of  wonder  and  fascination 
as  was  that  occupation,  it  was  prosaic  business  comjDared 
with  the  interest  of  a  certain  old  story  which  his  daughter 
and  I  were  going  over  together,  whereof  but  slight  mention 
has  been  made,  because  it  is  a  story  which  all  know  or  ought 
to  know  for  themselves.  The  dear  doctor,  being  aware  of 
the  usual  course  of  such  stories,  no  doubt  realized  that  this 
one  might  be  expected  presently  to  reach  a  stage  of  interest 
where  it  would  be  likely,  for  a  time  at  least,  wholly  to  dis- 
tract  my  attention  from  other  themes.     No  doubt  he  had 


382  EQUALITY. 

been  governed  by  this  consideration  in  trying  to  give  to 
our  talks  a  range  which  should  result  in  furnishing  me 
with  a  view  of  the  institutions  of  the  modern  world  and 
their  rational  basis  that  would  be  as  symmetrical  and 
rounded  out  as  was  at  all  consistent  with  the  vastness  of  the 
subject  and  the  shortness  of  the  time.  It  was  some  days 
after  he  had  told  me  the  story  of  the  transition  period  be- 
fore we  had  an  opportunity  for  another  long  talk,  and  the 
turn  he  gave  to  our  discourse  on  that  occasion  seemed  to  in- 
dicate that  he  intended  it  as  a  sort  of  conclusion  of  the  series, 
as  indeed  it  proved  to  be. 

Edith  and  I  had  come  home  rather  late  that  evening, 
and  when  she  left  me  I  turned  into  the  library,  where  a 
light  showed  that  the  doctor  was  still  sitting.  As  I  entered 
he  was  turning  over  the  leaves  of  a  very  old  and  yellow-look- 
ing volume,  the  title  of  which,  by  its  oddity,  caught  my  eye. 

"  Kenloe's  Book  of  the  Blind,"  I  said.  "  That  is  an  odd 
title." 

"  It  is  the  title  of  an  odd  book,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  The 
Book  of  the  Blind  is  nearly  a  hundred  years  old,  having 
been  compiled  soon  after  the  triumph  of  the  Revolution. 
Everybody  was  happy,  and  the  people  in  their  joy  were  will- 
ing to  forgive  and  forget  the  bitter  opposition  of  the  capi- 
talists and  the  learned  class,  which  had  so  long  held  back 
the  blessed  change.  The  preachers  who  had  preached,  the 
teachers  who  had  taught,  and  the  writers  who  had  written 
against  the  Revolution,  were  now  the  loudest  in  its  praise, 
and  desired  nothing  so  much  as  to  have  their  previous  utter- 
ances forgotten.  But  Kenloe,  moved  by  a  certain  crabbed 
sense  of  justice,  was  bound  that  they  should  not  be  forgot- 
ten. Accordingly,  he  took  the  pains  to  compile,  with  great 
care  as  to  authenticity,  names,  dates,  and  places,  a  mass  of 
excerpts  from  speeches,  books,  sermons,  and  newspapers,  in 
which  the  apologists  of  private  capitalism  had  defended 
that  system  and  assailed  the  advocates  of  economic  equality 
during  the  long  period  of  revolutionary  agitation.  Thus 
he  proposed  to  pillory  for  all  time  the  blind  guides  who  had 
done  their  best  to  lead  the  nation  and  the  world  into  the 
ditch.  The  time  would  come,  he  foresaw,  as  it  has  come, 
when  it  would  seem  incredible  to  posterity  that  rational 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  BLIND.  383 

men  and,  above  all,  learned  men  should  have  opposed  in 
the  name  of  reason  a  measure  whicli,  like  economic  equality, 
obviously  meant  nothing*  more  nor  less  than  the  general 
diffusion  of  happiness.  Against  that  time  he  prepared  this 
book  to  serve  as  a  perpetual  testimony.  It  was  dreadfully 
hard  on  the  men,  all  alive  at  the  time  and  desiring  the  past 
to  be  forgotten,  on  whom  he  conferred  this  most  undesir- 
able immortality.  One  can  imagine  how  they  must  have 
anathematized  him  when  the  book  came  out.  Nevertheless, 
it  must  be  said  that  if  men  ever  deserved  to  endure  perpet- 
ual obloquy  those  fellows  did. 

"  Wlien  I  came  across  this  old  volume  on  the  top  shelf 
of  the  library  the  other  day  it  occurred  to  me  that  it  might 
be  helpful  to  complete  your  impression  of  the  great  Revolu- 
tion by  giving  you  an  idea  of  the  other  side  of  the  contro- 
versy— the  side  of  your  own  class,  the  capitalists,  and  what 
sort  of  reasons  they  were  able  to  give  against  the  proposi- 
tion to  equalize  the  basis  of  human  welfare." 

I  assured  the  doctor  that  nothing  would  interest  me 
more.  Indeed,  I  had  become  so  thoroughly  naturalized  as  a 
twentieth-century  American  that  there  was  something  de- 
cidedly piquant  in  the  idea  of  having  my  former  point  of 
view  as  a  nineteenth-century  capitalist  recalled  to  me. 

"  Anticipating  that  you  would  take  that  view,"  said  the 
doctor,  "  I  have  prepared  a  little  list  of  the  main  heads  of  ob- 
jection from  Kenloe's  collection,  and  we  will  go  over  them, 
if  you  like,  this  evening.  Of  course,  there  are  many  more 
than  I  shall  quote,  but  the  others  are  mainly  variations  of 
these,  or  else  relate  to  points  which  have  been  covered  in  our 
talks." 

I  made  myself  comfortable,  and  the  doctor  proceeded  : 

THE   PULPIT   OBJECTION. 

"  The  clergy  in  your  day  assumed  to  be  the  leaders  of 
the  people,  and  it  is  but  respectful  to  their  pretensions  to 
take  up  first  what  seems  to  have  been  the  main  pulpit  argu- 
ment against  the  proposed  system  of  economic  equality  col- 
lectively guaranteed.  It  appears  to  have  been  rather  in  the 
nature  of  an  excuse  for  not  espousing  the  new  social  ideal 
than  a  direct  attack  on  it,  which  indeed  it  would  have  been 


384:  EQUALITY. 

rather  difficult  for  nominal  Christians  to  make,  seeing  that 
it  was  merely  the  proposal  to  carry  out  the  golden  rule. 

"  The  clergy  reasoned  that  the  fundamental  tcause  of 
social  misery  was  human  sin  and  depravity,  and  that  it 
was  vain  to  expect  any  great  improvement  in  the  social 
condition  through  mere  improvements  in  social  forms  and 
institutions  unless  there  was  a  corresponding  moral  im- 
provement in  men.  Until  that  improvement  took  place  it 
was  therefore  of  no  use  to  introduce  improved  social  sys- 
tems, for  they  would  work  as  badly  as  the  old  ones  if  those 
who  were  to  operate  them  were  not  themselves  better  men 
and  women. 

"  The  element  of  truth  in  this  argument  is  the  admitted 
fact  that  the  use  which  individuals  or  communities  are  able 
to  make  of  any  idea,  instrument,  or  institution  depends  on 
the  degree  to  which  they  have  been  educated  up  to  the  point 
of  understanding  and  appreciating  it. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  however,  it  is  equally  true,  as  the 
clergy  must  at  once  have  admitted,  that  from  the  time  a 
people  begins  to  be  morally  and  intellectually  educated  up 
to  the  point  of  understanding  and  appreciating  better  insti- 
tutions, their  adoption  is  likely  to  be  of  the  greatest  bene- 
fit to  them.  Take,  for  example,  the  ideas  of  religious  liberty 
and  of  democracy.  There  was  a  time  when  the  race  could 
not  understand  or  fitly  use  either,  and  their  adoption  as 
formal  institutions  would  have  done  no  good.  Afterward 
there  came  a  time  when  the  world  was  ready  for  the 
ideas,  and  then  their  realization  by  means  of  new  social 
institutions  constituted  great  forward  steps  in  civilization. 

"  That  is  to  say,  if,  on  the  one  hand,  it  is  of  no  use  to 
introduce  an  improved  institution  before  people  begin  to  be 
f eady  for  it,  on  the  other  hand  great  loss  results  if  there  be  a 
delay  or  refusal  to  adopt  the  better  institution  as  soon  as 
the  readiness  begins  to  manifest  itself. 

"  This  being  the  general  law  of  progress,  the  practical 
question  is.  How  are  we  to  determine  as  to  any  particular 
proposed  improvement  in  institutions  whether-  the  world  is 
yet  ready  to  make  a  good  use  of  it  or  whether  it  is  pre- 
mature ? 

"The  testimony  of  history  is  that  the  only  test  of  the  fit- 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  BLIND.  3S5 

ness  of  people  at  any  time  for  a  new  institution  is  the 
volume  and  earnestness  of  the  popular  demand  for  the 
change.  When  the  peoples  began  in  earnest  to  cry  out  for 
religious  liberty  and  freedom  of  conscience,  it  was  evident 
that  they  were  ready  for  them.  When  nations  began 
strongly  to  demand  popular  government,  it  was  proof  that 
they  were  ready  for  that.  It  did  not  follow  that  they  were 
entirely  able  at  once  to  make  the  best  possible  use  of  the 
new  institution ;  that  they  could  only  learn  to  do  by  expe- 
rience, and  the  further  development  which  they  would  at- 
tain through  the  use  of  the  better  institution  and  could  not 
otherwise  attain  at  all.  What  was  certain  w^as  that  after 
the  people  had  reached  this  state  of  mind  the  old  institu- 
tion had  ceased  to  be  serviceable,  and  that  however  badly 
for  a  time  the  new  one  might  work,  the  interest  of  the  race 
demanded  its  adoption,  and  resistance  to  the  change  was 
resistance  to  progress. 

"  Applying  this  test  to  the  situation  toward  the  close  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  ^vhat  evidence  was  there  that  the 
world  was  beginning  to  be  ready  for  a  radically  different 
and  more  humane  set  of  social  institutions  ?  The  evidence 
was  the  volume,  earnestness,  and  persistence  of  the  popu- 
lar demand  for  it  which  at  that  period  had  come  to  be  the 
most  widespread,  profound,  and  powerful  movement  going 
on  in  the  civilized  world.  This  was  the  tremendous  fact 
which  should  have  warned  the  clergy  who  withstood  the 
people's  demand  for  better  things  to  beware  lest  haply  they 
be  found  fighting  even  against  Grod.  What  more  convinc- 
ing proof  could  be  asked  that  the  world  had  morally  and 
intellectually  outgrown  the  old  economic  order  than  the 
detestation  and  denunciation  of  its  cruelties  and  fatuities 
which  had  become  the  universal  voice  ?  What  stronger  evi- 
dence could  there  be  that  the  race  was  ready  at  least  to  at- 
tempt the  experiment  of  social  life  on  a  nobler  plane  than 
the  marvelous  development  during  this  period  of  the  hu- 
manitarian and  pliilanthropic  spirit,  the  passionate  accept- 
ance by  the  masses  of  the  new  idea  of  social  solidarity  and 
the  universal  brotherhood  of  man  ? 

"  If  the  clergymen  who  objected  to  the  Revolution  on  the 
ground  that  better  institutions  would  be  of  no  utility  with- 


3S6  EQUALITY. 

out  a  better  spirit  had  been  sincere  in  that  objection,  they 
would  have  found  in  a  survey  of  the  state  and  tendencies  of 
popular  feeling  the  most  striking  proof  of  the  presence  of 
tlie  very  conditions  in  extraordinary^  measure  which  they 
demanded  as  necessary  to  insui'e  the  success  of  the  experi- 
ment. 

"  But  indeed  it  is  to  be  greatly  feared  that  they  were  not 
sincere.  They  pretended  to  hold  Christ's  doctrine  that  hatred 
of  the  old  life  and  a  desire  to  lead  a  better  one  is  the  only 
vocation  necessary  to  enter  upon  such  a  life.  If  they  had 
been  sincere  in  professing  this  doctrine,  they  would  have 
hailed  with  exultation  the  appeal  of  the  masses  to  be  de- 
livered from  their  bondage  to  a  wicked  social  order  and  to 
be  permitted  to  live  together  on  better,  kinder,  juster  terms. 
But  what  they  actually  said  to  the  people  was  in  substance 
this :  It  is  true,  as  you  complain,  that  the  present  social  and 
economic  system  is  morally  abominable  and  thoroughly 
antichristian,  and  that  it  destroys  men's  souls  and  bodies. 
Nevertheless,  you  must  not  think  of  trying  to  change  it  for  a 
better  system,  because  you  are  not  yet  good  enough  to  try 
to  be  better.  It  is  necessary  tliat  you  should  wait  until  you 
are  more  righteous  before  you  attempt  to  leave  off  doing 
evil.  You  must  go  on  stealing  and  fighting  until  you  shall 
become  fully  sanctified. 

"  How  would  the  clergy  have  been  scandalized  to  hear 
that  a  Christian  minister  had  in  like  terms  attempted  to 
discourage  an  individual  penitent  who  professed  loathing 
for  his  former  life  and  a  desire  to  lead  a  better!  What 
language  shall  we  find  then  that  is  strong  enough  fitly  to 
characterize  the  attitude  of  these  so-called  ministers  of 
Christ,  who  in  his  name  rebuked  and  derided  the  aspira- 
tions of  a  world  weary  of  social  wrong  and  seeking  for  a 
better  way  ? " 

THE   LACK   OF   INCENTIVE   OBJECTION. 

"  But,  after  all,"  pursued  the  doctor,  turning  the  pages  of 
Kenloe,  "  let  us  not  be  too  hard  on  these  unfortunate  clergy- 
men, as  if  they  were  more  blinded  or  bigoted  in  their  oppo- 
sition to  progress  than  were  other  classes  of  the  learned 
men  of  the  day,  as,  for  example,  the  economists.     One  of 


THE   BOOK   OF  THE   BLIND.  387 

the  main  arguments — perhaps  the  leading-  one — of  the  nine- 
teenth-century economists  against  the  programme  of  eco- 
nomic equality  under  a  nationalized  economic  system  was 
that  the  people  would  not  prove  efficient  workers  owing  to 
the  lack  of  sufficiently  sharp  personal  incentives  to  dili- 
gence. 

'*  Now,  let  us  look  at  this  objection.  Under  the  old  sys- 
tem there  were  two  main  incentives  to  economic  exertion  : 
the  one  chiefly  operative  on  the  masses,  who  lived  from  hand 
to  mouth,  with  no  hope  of  more  than  a  bare  subsistence  ;  the 
other  operating  to  stimulate  the  well-to-do  and  rich  to  con- 
tinue their  efforts  to  accumulate  wealth.  The  first  of  these 
motives,  the  lash  that  drove  the  masses  to  their  tasks,  was 
the  actual  pressure  or  imminent  fear  of  want.  The  second  of 
the  motives,  that  which  spurred  the  already  rich,  was  the  de- 
sire to  be  ever  richer,  a  passion  which  we  know  increased  with 
what  it  fed  on.  Under  the  new  system  every  one  on  easy 
conditions  would  be  sure  of  as  good  a  maintenance  as  any 
one  else  and  be  quite  relieved  from  the  pressure  or  fear  of 
want.  No  one,  on  the  other  hand,  by  any  amount  of  effort, 
could  hope  to  become  the  economic  superior  of  another. 
Moreover,  it  was  said,  since  every  one  looked  to  his  share  in 
the  general  result  rather  than  to  his  personal  product,  the 
nerve  of  zeal  would  be  cut.  It  was  argued  that  the  result 
would  be  that  everybody  would  do  as  little  as  he  could  and 
keep  within  the  minimum  requirement  of  the  law,  and  that 
therefore,  while  the  system  might  barely  support  itself,  it 
could  never  be  an  economic  success." 

"  That  sounds  very  natural,"  I  said.  "  I  imagine  it  is 
just  the  sort  of  argument  that  I  should  have  thought  very 
powerful." 

''  So  your  friends  the  capitalists  seem  to  have  regarded  it, 
and  yet  the  very  statement  of  the  argument  contains  a  con- 
fession of  the  economic  imbecility  of  private  capitalism 
which  really  leaves  nothing  to  be  desired  as  to  complete- 
ness. Consider,  Julian,  what  is  implied  as  to  an  economic 
system  by  the  admission  that  under  it  the  people  never  es- 
cape the  actual  pressure  of  want  or  the  immediate  dread  of 
it.  What  more  could  the  worst  enemy  of  private  capitalism 
allege  against  it,  or  what  stronger  reason  could  he  give  for 


388  EQUALITY. 

demanding  that  some  radically  new  system  be  at  least  given 
a^ trial,  than  the  fact  which  its  defenders  stated  in  this  argu- 
ment for  retaining  it — namely,  that  under  it  the  masses 
were  always  hungry  ?  Surely  no  possible  new  system 
could  work  any  worse  than  one  which  confessedly  de- 
pended upon  the  perpetual  famine  of  the  people  to  keep  it 
going." 

"  It  was  a  pretty  bad  giving  away  of  their  case,"  I  said, 
"  when  you  come  to  think  of  it  that  way.  And  yet  at  first 
statement  it  really  had  a  formidable  sound." 

"  Manifestly,"  said  the  doctor,  "  the  incentives  to  wealth- 
production  under  a  system  confessedly  resulting  in  perpetual 
famine  must  be  ineffectual,  and  we  really  need  consider 
them  no  further ;  but  your  economists  praised  so  highly  the 
ambition  to  get  rich  as  an  economic  motive  and  objected  so 
strongly  to  economic  equality  because  it  would  shut  it  off, 
that  a  word  may  be  well  as  to  the  real  value  of  the  lust  of 
wealth  as  an  economic  motive.  Did  the  individual  pursuit 
of  riches  under  your  system  necessarily  tend  to  increase 
the  aggregate  w^ealth  of  the  community  ?  The  answer  is 
significant.  It  tended  to  increase  the  aggregate  wealth  only 
when  it  prompted  the  production  of  new  wealth.  When, 
on  the  other  hand,  it  merely  prompted  individuals  to  get 
possession  of  wealth  already  produced  and  in  the  hands  of 
others,  it  tended  only  to  change  the  distribution  without  at 
all  increasing  the  total  of  wealth.  Not  only,  indeed,  did 
the  pursuit  of  wealth  by  acquisition,  as  distinguished  from 
production,  not  tend  to  increase  the  total,  but  greatly  to 
decrease  it  by  wasteful  strife.  Now,  I  will  leave  it  to  you, 
Julian,  whether  the  successful  pursuers  of  wealth,  those  who 
illustrated  most  strikingly  the  force  of  this  motive  of  accu- 
mulation, usually  sought  their  wealth  by  themselves  pro- 
ducing it  or  by  getting  hold  of  what  other  people  had  pro- 
duced or  supplanting  other  people's  enterprises  and  reaping 
the  field  others  had  sown." 

"  By  the  latter  processes,  of  course,"  I  replied.  "  Produc- 
tion was  slow  and  hard  work.  Great  wealth  could  not  be 
gained  that  way,  and  everybody  knew  it.  The  acquisition 
of  other  people's  product  and  the  supplanting  of  their  en- 
terprises were  the  easy  and  speedy  and  royal  waj^s  to  riches 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE   BLIND.  389 

for  those  who  were  clever  enough,  and  were  the  basis  of  all 
large  and  rapid  accumulations."' 

''So  we  read,''  said  the  doctor ;  ''but  the  desire  of  getting* 
rich  also  stimulated  capitalists  to  more  or  less  productive 
activity  which  was  the  source  of  what  little  wealth  you  had. 
This  was  called  production  for  profit,  but  the  political-econ- 
omy class  the  otlier  morning  showed  us  that  production  for 
profit  was  economic  suicide,  tending  inevitably,  by  limiting 
the  consuming  power  of  a  community,  to  a  fractional  i^art 
of  its  productive  power  to  cripple  production  in  turn,  and  so 
to  keep  the  mass  of  mankind  in  perpetual  poverty.  And 
surely  this  is  enough  to  say  about  the  incentives  to  wealth- 
making  which  the  world  lost  in  abandoning  private  capital- 
ism, first  general  poverty,  and  second  the  profit  system,  which 
caused  that  poverty.  Decidedly  we  can  dispense  with  those 
incentives. 

"Under  the  modern  system  it  is  indeed  true  that  no  one 
ever  imagined  such  a  thing  as  coming  to  want  unless  he  de- 
liberately chose  to,  but  we  think  that  fear  is  on  the  whole 
the  weakest  as  well  as  certainly  the  cruelest  of  incentives. 
We  would  not  have  it  on  any  terms  were  it  merely  for 
gain's  sake.  Even  in  your  day  your  capitalists  knew  that 
the  best  man  was  not  he  who  was  working  for  his  next  din- 
ner, but  he  who  was  so  well  off  that  no  immediate  concern 
for  his  living  affected  his  mind.  Self-respect  and  pride  in 
achievement  made  him  a  far  better  workman  than  he  who 
w^as  thinking  of  his  day's  pay.  But  if  those  motives  were  as 
strong  then,  think  how  much  more  powerful  they  are  now  ! 
In  your  day  when  two  men  worked  side  by  side  for  an  em- 
ployer it  was  no  concern  of  the  one,  however  the  other 
might  cheat  or  loaf.  It  was  not  his  loss,  but  the  employer's. 
But  now  that  all  work  for  the  common  fund,  the  one  who 
evades  or  scamps  his  work  robs  every  one  of  his  fellows. 
A  man  had  better  hang  himself  nowadays  than  get  the 
reputation  of  a  shirk. 

"As  to  the  notion  of  these  objectors  that  economic 
equality  would  cut  the  nerve  of  zeal  by  denying  the  indi- 
vidual the  reward  of  his  personal  achievements,  it  was  a 
complete  misconception  of  the  effects  of  the  system.  The 
assumption  that  there  would  be  no  incentives  to  impel  indi- 
26 


390  EQUALITY. 

viduals  to  excel  one  another  in  industry  merely  because 
these  incentives  would  not  take  a  money  form  was  absurd. 
Every  one  is  as  directly  and  far  more  certainly  the  bene- 
ficiary of  his  own  merits  as  in  your  day,  save  only  that  the 
reward  is  not  in  what  you  called  'cash.'  As  you  know, 
the  w^hole  system  of  social  and  official  rank  and  head- 
ship, together  with  the  special  honors  of  the  state,  are  de- 
termined by  the  relative  value  of  the  economic  and  other 
services  of  individuals  to  the  community.  Compared  with 
the  emulation  aroused  by  this  system  of  nobility  by  merit, 
the  incentives  to  effort  offered  under  the  old  order  of  things 
must  have  been  sliglit  indeed. 

"  The  whole  of  this  subject  of  incentive  taken  by  your 
contemporaries  seems,  in  fact,  to  have  been  based  upon  the 
crude  and  childish  theory  that  the  main  factor  in  diligence 
or  execution  of  any  kind  is  external,  whereas  it  is  Avholly 
internal.  A  person  is  congenitally  slothful  or  energetic. 
In  the  one  case  no  opportunity  and  no  incentive  can  make 
him  work  beyond  a  certain  minimum  of  efficiency,  while 
in  the  other  case  he  will  make  his  opportunity  and  find 
his  incentives,  and  nothing  but  superior  force  can  prevent 
his  doing  the  utmost  possible.  If  the  motive  force  is  not 
in  the  man  to  start  with,  it  can  not  be  supplied  from  with- 
out, and  there  is  no  substitute  for  it.  If  a  man's  main- 
spring is  not  wound  up  when  he  is  born,  it  never  can  be 
wound  up  afterw^ard.  The  most  that  any  industrial  system 
can  do  to  promote  diligence  is  to  establish  such  absolutely 
fair  conditions  as  shall  promise  sure  recognition  for  all 
merit  in  its  measure.  This  fairness,  which  your  system, 
utterly  unjust  in  all  respects,  wholly  failed  to  secure,  ours 
absolutely  provides.  As  to  the  unfortunates  w^ho  are  born 
lazy,  our  system  has  certainly  no  miraculous  power  to  make 
them  energetic,  but  it  does  see  to  it  with  absolute  certainty 
that  every  able-bodied  person  who  receives  economic  main- 
tenance of  the  nation  shall  render  at  least  the  minimum  of 
service.  The  laziest  is  sure  to  pay  his  cost.  In  your  day, 
on  the  other  hand,  society  supported  millions  of  able-bodied 
loafers  in  idleness,  a  dead  weight  on  the  world's  industry. 
From  the  hour  of  the  consummation  of  the  great  Revolu- 
tion this  burden  ceased  to  be  borne." 


THE   BOOK   OP  THE   BLIND.  391 

"  Doctor,"  I  said,  "  I  am  sure  my  old  friends  could  do 
better  than  that.     Let  us  have  another  of  their  objections." 

AFRAID  THAT  EQUALITY  WOULD   MAKE   EVERYBODY  ALIKE. 

"Here,  then,  is  one  which  they  seem  to  have  thought  a 
great  deal  of.  They  argued  that  the  effect  of  economic 
equality  would  be  to  make  everybody  just  alike,  as  if  they 
had  been  sawed  off  to  one  measure,  and  that  consequently 
life  would  become  so  monotonous  that  people  would  all  hang 
themselves  at  the  end  of  a  month.  This  objection  is  beauti- 
fully typical  of  an  age  when  everything  and  everybody  had 
been  reduced  to  a  money  valuation.  It  having  been  pro- 
posed to  equalize  everybody's  supply  of  money,  it  was  at 
once  assumed,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  there  would  be  left 
no  points  of  difference  between  individuals  that  would  be 
worth  considering.  How  perfectly  does  this  conclusion  ex- 
press the  philosophy  of  life  held  by  a  generation  in  which 
it  was  the  custom  to  sum  up  men  as  respectively  '  worth  '  so 
many  thousands,  hundred  thousands,  or  millions  of  dollars  ! 
Naturally  enough,  to  such  people  it  seemed  that  human 
beings  would  become  well-nigh  indistinguishable  if  their 
bank  accounts  were  the  same. 

"  But  let  us  be  entirely  fair  to  your  contemporaries. 
Possibly  those  who  used  this  argument  against  economic 
equality  would  have  felt  aggrieved  to  have  it  made  out 
the  baldly  sordid  proposition  it  seems  to  be.  They  appear, 
to  judge  from  the  excerpts  collected  in  this  book,  to  have 
had  a  vague  but  sincere  apprehension  that  in  some  quite 
undefined  way  economic  equality  would  really  tend  to 
make  people  monotonously  alike,  tediously  similar,  not 
merely  as  to  bank  accounts,  but  as  to  qualities  in  general, 
with  the  result  of  obscuring  the  differences  in  natural  en- 
dowments, the  interaction  of  which  lends  all  the  zest  to 
social  intercoui'se.  It  seems  almost  incredible  that  the  obvi- 
ous and  necessary  effect  of  economic  equality  could  be 
apprehended  in  a  sense  so  absolutely  opposed  to  the  truth. 
How  could  your  contemporaries  look  about  them  with- 
out seeing  that  it  is  always  inequality  which  prompts  the 
suppression  of  individuality  by  putting  a  premium  on  servile 
imitation  of   superiors,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  it  is 


392  EQLTALITY. 

always  among  equals  that  one  finds  independence  ?  Sup- 
pose, Julian,  you  had  a  squad  of  recruits  and  wanted  to 
ascertain  at  a  glance  their  difference  in  height,  what  sort 
of  ground  would  you  select  to  line  them  up  on  ?  " 

"  The  levelest  piece  I  could  find,  of  course." 

"  Evidently ;  and  no  doubt  these  very  objectors  would 
have  done  the  same  in  a  like  case,  and  yet  they  wholly  failed 
to  see  that  this  was  precisely  what  economic  equality  would 
mean  for  the  community  at  large.  Economic  equality  with 
the  equalities  of  education  and  opportunity  implied  in  it 
was  the  level  standing  ground,  the  even  floor,  on  which  the 
new  order  proposed  to  range  all  alike,  that  they  might  be 
known  for  what  they  were,  and  all  their  natural  inequalities 
be  brought  fully  out.  The  charge  of  abolishing  and  obscur- 
ing the  natural  differences  between  men  lay  justly  not 
against  the  new  order,  but  against  the  old,  which,  by  a 
thousand  artificial  conditions  and  opportunities  arising 
from  economic  inequality,  made  it  impossible  to  know  how 
far  the  apparent  differences  in  individuals  were  natural,  and 
how  far  they  were  the  result  of  artificial  conditions.  Those 
who  voiced  the  objection  to  economic  equality  as  tending 
to  make  men  all  alike  were  fond  of  calling  it  a  leveling 
process.  So  it  was,  but  it  was  not  men  whom  the  process 
leveled,  but  the  ground  they  stood  on.  From  its  introduc- 
tion dates  the  first  full  and  clear  revelation  of  the  natural 
and  inherent  varieties  in  human  endowments.  Economic 
equality,  with  all  it  implies,  is  the  first  condition  of  any  true 
anthropometric  or  man-measuring  system." 

''Really,"  I  said,  "all  these  objections  seem  to  be  of  the 
boomerang  pattern,  doing  more  damage  to  the  side  that  used 
them  than  to  the  enemy." 

''  For  that  matter,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  the  revolution- 
ists would  have  been  well  off  for  ammunition  if  they  had 
used  only  that  furnished  by  their  opponents'  arguments. 
Take,  for  example,  another  specimen,  which  we  may  call 
the  aesthetic  objection  to  economic  equality,  and  might  re- 
gard as  a  development  of  the  one  just  considered.  It  was 
asserted  that  the  picturesqueness  and  amusement  of  the 
human  spectacle  would  suffer  without  the  contrast  of  con- 
ditions between  the  rich  and  poor.     The  question  first  sug- 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  BLIND.  393 

gested  by  this  statement  is:  To  whom,  to  what  class  did 
these  contrasts  tend  to  make  life  more  amusing  ?  Certainly 
not  to  the  poor,  who  made  up  the  mass  of  the  race.  To  them 
they  must  have  been  maddening.  It  was  then  in  the  in- 
terest of  the  mere  handful  of  rich  and  fortunate  that  this 
argument  for  retaining  poverty  was  urged.  Indeed  this 
appears  to  have  been  quite  a  fine  ladies'  argument.  Ken- 
loe  puts  it  in  the  mouths  of  leaders  of  polite  society.  As 
coolly  as  if  it  had  been  a  question  of  parlor  decoration, 
they  appear  to  have  argued  that  the  black  background  of  the 
general  misery  was  a  desirable  foil  to  set  off  the  pomp  of 
the  rich.  But,  after  all,  this  objection  was  not  more  brutal 
than  it  was  stupid.  If  here  t.nd  there  might  be  found  some 
perverted  being  who  relished  his  luxuries  the  more  keenly 
for  the  sight  of  others'  want,  yet  the  general  and  universal 
rule  is  that  happiness  is  stimulated  by  the  sight  of  the  hap- 
piness of  others.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  far  from  desiring  to 
see  or  be  even  reminded  of  squalor  and  poverty,  the  rich 
seem  to  have  tried  to  get  as  far  as  possible  from  sight  or 
sound  of  them,  and  to  wish  to  forget  their  existence. 

"  A  great  part  of  the  objections  to  economic  equality  in 
this  book  seems  to  have  been  based  on  such  complete  mis- 
apprehensions of  what  the  plan  implied  as  to  have  no  sort  of 
relevancy  to  it.  Some  of  these  I  have  passed  over.  One 
of  them,  by  way  of  illustration,  was  based  on  the  assumption 
that  the  new  social  order  w^ould  in  some  way  operate  to  en- 
force, by  law,  relations  of  social  intimacy  of  all  with  all, 
without  regard  to  personal  tastes  or  affinities.  Quite  a  num- 
ber of  Kenloe's  subjects  worked  themselves  up  to  a  frenzy, 
protesting  against  the  intolerable  effects  of  such  a  require- 
ment. Of  course,  they  were  fighting  imaginary  foes.  There 
was  nothing  under  the  old  social  order  which  compelled 
men  to  associate  merely  because  their  bank  accounts  or  in- 
comes were  the  same,  and  there  was  nothing  under  the  new 
order  that  would  any  more  do  so.  While  the  universality 
of  culture  and  refinement  vastly  widens  the  circle  from 
which  one  maj^  choose  congenial  associates,  there  is  nothing 
to  prevent  anybody  from  living  a  life  as  absolutely  unsocial 
as  the  veriest  cynic  of  the  old  time  could  have  desired. 


394  EQUALITY. 


OBJECTION  THAT    EQUALITY  WOULD    END    THE   COMPETITIVE 
SYSTEM. 

"The  theory  of  Kenloe,"  continued  the  doctor,  "that 
unless  he  carefully  recorded  and  authenticated  these  objec- 
tions to  economic  equality,  posterity  would  refuse  to  believe 
that  they  had  ever  been  seriously  offered,  is  specially  justi- 
fied by  the  next  one  on  the  list.  This  is  an  argument 
against  the  new  order  because  it  would  abolish  the  com- 
petitive system  and  put  an  end  to  the  struggle  for  exist- 
ence. According  to  the  objectors,  this  would  be  to  destroy 
an  invaluable  school  of  character  and  testing  process  for  the 
weeding  out  of  inferiority,  and  the  development  and  sur- 
vival as  leaders  of  the  best  types  of  humanity.  Now,  if  your 
contemporaries  had  excused  themselves  for  tolerating  the 
competitive  system  on  the  ground  that,  bad  and  cruel  as  it 
was,  the  world  was  not  ripe  for  any  other,  the  attitude  would 
have  been  intelligible,  if  not  rational ;  but  that  they  should 
defend  it  as  a  desirable  institution  in  itself,  on  account  of 
its  moral  results,  and  therefore  not  to  be  dispensed  with 
even  if  it  could  be,  seems  hard  to  believe.  For  what  was  the 
competitive  system  but  a  pitiless,  all-involving  combat  for 
the  means  of  life,  the  whole  zest  of  which  depended  on  the 
fact  that  there  was  not  enough  to  go  round,  and  the  losers 
must  perish  or  purchase  bare  existence  by  becoming  the 
bondmen  of  the  successful  ?  Between  a  fight  for  the  neces- 
sary means  of  life  like  this  and  a  fight  for  life  itself  with 
sword  and  gun,  it  is  impossible  to  make  any  real  distinc- 
tion.    However,  let  us  give  tlie  objection  a  fair  hearing. 

"  In  the  first  place,  let  us  admit  that,  however  dreadful 
were  the  incidents  of  the  fight  for  the  means  of  life  called 
competition,  yet,  if  it  were  such  a  school  of  character  and 
testing  process  for  developing  the  best  tjT)es  of  the  race  as 
these  objectors  claimed,  there  would  be  something  to  have 
been  said  in  favor  of  its  retention.  But  the  first  condition 
of  any  competition  or  test,  the  results  of  which  are  to  com- 
mand respect  or  possess  any  value,  is  the  fairness  and  equal- 
ity of  the  struggle.  Did  this  first  and  essential  condition  of 
any  true  competitive  struggle  characterize  the  competitive 
system  of  your  day  ? '' 


THE  BOOK  OF   THE  BLIND.  395 

"  On  the  contrary,"  I  replied,  "  the  vast  majority  of  the 
contestants  were  hopelessly  handicapped  at  the  start  by 
ignorance  and  lack  of  early  advantages,  and  never  had  even 
the  g-liost  of  a  chance  from  the  word  go.  Differences  in  eco- 
nomic advantages  and  backing,  moreover,  gave  half  the  race 
at  the  beginning  to  some,  leaving  the  others  at  a  distance 
which  only  extraordinary  endowments  might  overcome. 
Finally,  in  the  race  for  wealth  all  the  greatest  prizes  were 
not  subject  to  competition  at  all,  but  were  awarded  without 
any  contest  according  to  the  accident  of  birth." 

"  On  the  whole,  then,  it  would  appear,"  resumed  the  doc- 
tor, "that  of  all  the  utterly  unequal,  unfair,  fraudulent, 
sham  contests,  whether  in  sport  or  earnest,  that  were  ever 
engaged  in,  the  so-called  competitive  system  was  the  ghast- 
liest farce.  It  was  called  the  competitive  system  apparently 
for  no  other  reason  than  that  there  was  not  a  particle  of 
genuine  competition  in  it,  nothing  but  brutal  and  cowardly 
slaughter  of  the  unarmed  and  overmatched  by  bullies  in 
armor ;  for,  although  we  have  compared  the  competitive 
struggle  to  a  foot  race,  it  was  no  such  harmless  sport  as 
that,  but  a  struggle  to  the  death  for  life  and  liberty,  which, 
mind  you,  the  contestants  did  not  even  choose  to  risk,  but 
were  forced  to  undertake,  whatever  their  chances.  The  old 
Romans  used  to  enjoy  the  spectacle  of  seeing  men  fight  for 
their  lives,  but  they  at  least  were  careful  to  pair  their 
gladiators  as  nearly  as  possible.  The  most  hardened  attend- 
ants at  the  Coliseum  would  have  hissed  from  the  arena  a 
performance  in  which  the  combatants  were  matched  with 
such  utter  disregard  of  fairness  as  were  those  who  fought 
for  their  lives  in  the  so-called  competitive  struggle  of  your 
day." 

"Even  you,  doctor,"  I  said,  "though  you  know  these 
things  so  well  through  the  written  record,  can  not  realize 
how  terribly  true  your  words  are." 

"Very  good.  Now  tell  me  what  it  would  have  been 
necessary  to  do  by  way  of  equalizing  the  conditions  of  the 
competitive  struggle  in  order  that  it  might  be  called, 
without  mockery,  a  fair  test  of  the  qualities  of  the  con- 
testants." 

"It  would  have  been  necessary,  at  least,"   I   said,   "to 


396  EQUALITY. 

equalize  their  educational  equipment,  early  advantages,  and 
economic  or  money  backing." 

"  Precisely  so ;  and  that  is  just  what  economic  equality 
proposed  to  do.  Your  extraordinary  contemporaries  ob- 
jected to  economic  equality  because  it  would  destroy  the 
competitive  system,  when,  in  fact,  it  promised  the  world  the 
first  and  only  genuine  competitive  system  it  ever  had." 

"  This  objection  seems  the  biggest  boomerang  yet,"  I 
said. 

"It  is  a  double-ended  one,"  said  the  doctor,  "  and  we 
have  yet  observed  but  one  end.  We  have  seen  that  the  so- 
called  competitive  system  under  private  capitalism  was  not 
a  competitive  system  at  all,  and  that  nothing  but  economic 
equality  could  make  a  truly  competitive  system  possible. 
Grant,  however,  for  the  sake  of  the  argument,  that  the  old 
system  was  honestly  competitive,  and  that  the  prizes  went 
to  the  most  proficient  under  the  requirements  of  the  com- 
petition ;  the  question  would  remain  whether  the  qualities 
the  competition  tended  to  develop  were  desirable  ones.  A 
training  school  in  the  art  of  lying,  for  example,  or  burglary, 
or  slander,  or  fraud,  might  be  efficient  in  its  method  and 
the  prizes  might  be  fairly  distributed  to  the  most  proficient 
pupils,  and  yet  it  would  scarcely  be  argued  that  the  main- 
tenance of  the  school  was  in  the  public  interest.  The 
objection  we  are  considering  assumes  that  the  qualities 
encouraged  and  rewarded  under  the  competitive  system  were 
desirable  qualities,  and  such  as  it  was  for  the  public  policy  to 
develop.  Now,  if  this  was  so,  we  may  confidently  expect  to 
find  that  the  prize-winners  in  the  competitive  struggle,  the 
great  money-makers  of  your  age,  were  admitted  to  be  intel- 
lectually and  morally  the  finest  types  of  the  race  at  the  time. 
How  was  that  ?  " 

"  Don't  be  sarcastic,  doctor." 

"  No,  I  will  not  be  sarcastic,  however  great  the  tempta- 
tion, but  just  talk  straight  on.  What  did  the  world,  as  a 
rule,  think  of  the  great  fortune-makers  of  your  time  ? 
What  sort  of  human  types  did  they  represent  ?  As  to  in- 
tellectual culture,  it  was  held  as  an  axiom  that  a  college 
education  was  a  drawback  to  success  in  business,  and  natu- 
rally so,  for  any  knowledge  of  the  humanities  would  in  so 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  BLIND.  397 

far  have  unmanned  men  for  the  sordid  and  pitiless  condi- 
tions of  the  fight  for  wealth.  We  find  the  great  prize  takers 
in  the  competitive  struggle  to  have  generally  been  men  who 
made  it  a  boast  that  they  had  never  had  any  mental  educa- 
tion beyond  the  rudiments.  As  a  rule,  the  children  and 
grandchildren,  who  gladly  inherited  their  wealth,  were 
ashamed  of  their  ax)pearance  and  manners  as  too  gross  for 
refined  surroundings. 

"  So  much  for  the  intellectual  qualities  that  marked  the 
victors  in  the  race  for  wealth  under  the  miscalled  competi- 
tive system  ;  what  of  the  moral  ?  What  were  the  qualities 
and  practices  which  the  successful  seeker  after  great  wealth 
must  systematically  cultivate  and  follow  ?  A  lifelong  habit 
of  calculating  upon  and  taking  advantage  of  the  weaknesses, 
necessities,  and  mistakes  of  others,  a  pitiless  insistence  upon 
making  the  most  of  every  advantage  which  one  might  gain 
over  another,  whether  by  skill  or  accident,  the  constant  habit 
of  undervaluing  and  depreciating  what  one  would  buy.  and 
overvaluing  what  one  would  sell ;  finally,  such  a  lifelong 
study  to  regulate  every  thought  and  act  with  sole  reference 
to  the  pole  star  of  self-interest  in  its  narrowest  conception 
as  must  needs  presently  render  the  man  incapable  of  every 
generous  or  self-forgetting  impulse.  That  was  the  condition 
of  mind  and  soul  which  the  competitive  pursuit  of  wealth 
in  your  day  tended  to  develop,  and  which  was  naturally 
most  brilliantly  exemplified  in  the  cases  of  those  who  car- 
ried away  the  great  prizes  of  the  struggle. 

"  But,  of  course,  these  winners  of  the  great  prizes  were 
few,  and  had  the  demoralizing  infiuence  of  the  struggle 
been  limited  to  them  it  would  have  involved  the  moral  ruin 
of  a  small  number.  To  realize  how  wide  and  deadly  was  the 
depraving  influence  of  the  struggle  for  existence,  we  must 
remember  that  it  was  not  confined  to  its  effect  upon  the  char- 
acters of  the  few  who  succeeded,  but  demoralized  equally 
the  millions  who  failed,  not  on  account  of  a  virtue  superior 
to  that  of  the  few  winners,  or  any  unwillingness  to  adopt 
their  methods,  but  merely  through  lack  of  the  requisite 
ability  or  fortune.  Though  not  one  in  ten  thousand  might 
succeed  largely  in  the  pursuit  of  wealth,  yet  the  rules  of  the 
contest  must  be  followed  as  closely  to  make  a  bare  living  as 


398  EQUALITY. 

to  gain  a  fortune,  in  bargaining  for  a  bag  of  old  rags  as 
in  buying  a  railroad.  So  it  was  that  the  necessity  equally 
upon  all  of  seeking  their  living,  however  humble,  by  the 
methods  of  competition,  forbade  the  solace  of  a  good  con- 
science as  effectually  to  the  poor  man  as  to  the  rich,  to  the 
many  losers  at  the  game  as  to  the  few  winners.  You  re- 
member the  familiar  legend  which  represents  the  devil  as 
bargaining  with  people  for  their  souls,  with  the  promise  of 
worldly  success  as  the  price.  The  bargain  was  in  a  manner 
fair  as  set  forth  in  the  old  story.  The  man  always  received 
the  price  agreed  on.  But  the  competitive  system  was  a 
fraudulent  devil,  which,  while  requiring  everybody  to  for- 
feit their  souls,  gave  in  return  worldly  success  to  but  one 
in  a  thousand. 

"And  now,  Julian,  just  let  us  glance  at  the  contrast  be- 
tween what  winning  meant  under  the  old  false  competitive 
system  and  what  it  means  under  the  new  and  true  competi- 
tive system,  both  to  the  winner  and  to  the  others.  The  win- 
ners then  were  those  who  had  been  most  successful  in  get- 
ting away  the  wealth  of  others.  They  had  not  even  pre- 
tended to  seek  the  good  of  the  community  or  to  advance 
its  interest,  and  if  they  had  done  so,  that  result  had  been 
quite  incidental.  More  often  than  otherwise  their  wealth 
represented  the  loss  of  others.  What  wonder  that  their 
riches  became  a  badge  of  ignominy  and  their  victory  their 
shame  ?  The  winners  in  the  competition  of  to-day  are  those 
who  have  done  most  to  increase  the  general  wealth  and  wel- 
fare. The  losers,  those  who  have  failed  to  win  the  prizes, 
are  not  the  victims  of  the  winners,  but  those  whose  interest, 
together  with  the  general  interest,  has  been  served  by 
them  better  than  they  themselves  could  have  served  it. 
They  are  actually  better  off  because  a  higher  ability  than 
theirs  was  developed  in  the  race,  seeing  that  this  ability  re- 
dounded wholly  to  the  common  interest.  The  badges  of 
honor  and  rewards  of  rank  and  office  which  are  the  tangible 
evidence  of  success  won  in  the  modern  competitive  struggle 
are  but  expressions  of  the  love  and  gratitude  of  the  people 
to  those  who  have  proved  themselves  their  most  devoted 
and  efficient  servants  and  benefactors." 

"  It  strikes  me,"  I  said,  "  so  far  as  you  have  gone,  that  if 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  BLIND.  399 

some  one  had  been  employed  to  draw  up  a  list  of  the  worst 
and  weakest  aspects  of  private  capitalism,  he  could  not  have 
done  better  than  to  select  the  features  of  the  system  on 
which  its  champions  seem  to  have  based  their  objections  to 
a  change." 

OBJECTION  THAT   EQUALITY  WOULD   DISCOURAGE   INDEPEND- 
ENCE  AND    ORIGINALTY. 

"  That  is  am  impression,"  said  the  doctor,  ''  which  you 
will  find  confirmed  as  we  take  up  the  next  of  the  arguments 
on  our  list  against  economic  equality.  It  was  asserted  that 
to  have  an  economic  maintenance  on  simple  and  easy  terms 
guaranteed  to  all  by  the  nation  would  tend  to  discourage 
originality  and  independence  of  thought  and  conduct  on 
the  part  of  the  people,  and  hinder  the  development  of  char- 
acter and  individuality.  This  objection  might  be  regarded 
as  a  branch  of  the  former  one  that  economic  equality  would 
make  everybody  just  alike,  or  it  might  be  considered  a  corol- 
lary of  the  argument  we  have  just  disposed  of  about  the 
value  of  competition  as  a  school  of  character.  But  so  much 
seems  to  have  been  made  of  it  by  the  opponents  of  the 
Revolution  that  I  have  set  it  down  separately. 

"  The  objection  is  one  which,  by  the  very  terms  neces- 
sary to  state  it,  seems  to  answer  itself,  for  it  amounts  to  say- 
ing that  a  person  will  be  in  danger  of  losing  independence 
of  feeling  by  gaining  independence  of  position.  If  I  were 
to  ask  you  what  economic  condition  was  regarded  as  most 
favorable  to  moral  and  intellectual  independence  in  your 
day,  and  most  likely  to  encourage  a  man  to  act  out  himself 
without  fear  or  favor,  what  would  you  say  ?  " 

"  I  should  say,  of  course,  that  a  secure  and  independent 
basis  of  livelihood  was  that  condition." 

"  Of  course.  Now,  what  the  new  order  promised  to  give 
and  guarantee  everybody  was  precisely  this  absolute  inde- 
pendence and  security  of  livelihood.  And  yet  it  was  argued 
that  the  arrangement  would  be  objectionable,  as  tending  to 
discourage  independence  of  character.  It  seems  to  us  that 
if  there  is  any  one  particular  in  which  the  influence  upon 
humanity  of  economic  equality  has  been  more  beneficent 
than  any  other,  it  has  been  the  effect  which  security  of 


400  EQUALITY. 

economic  position  has  had  to  make  every  one  absolute  lord 
of  himself  and  answerable  for  his  opinions,  speech,  and  con- 
duct to  his  own  conscience  only. 

"  That  is  perhaps  enough  to  say  in  answer  to  an  objec- 
tion which,  as  I  remarked,  reallj^  confutes  itself,  but  the 
monumental  audacity  of  the  defenders  of  private  capitalism 
in  arguing  that  any  other  possible  system  could  be  more 
unfavorable  than  itself  to  human  dignity  and  independence 
tempts  a  little  comment,  especially  as  this  is  »n  aspect  of  the 
old  order  on  which  I  do  not  remember  that  we  have  had 
much  talk.  As  it  seems  to  us,  perhaps  the  most  offensive 
feature  of  private  capitalism,  if  one  may  select  among  so 
many  offensive  features,  was  its  effect  to  make  cowardly, 
time-serving,  abject  creatures  of  human  beings,  as  a  con- 
sequence of  the  dependence  for  a  living,  of  pretty  nearly 
everybody  upon  some  individual  or  group. 

"  Let  us  just  glance  at  the  spectacle  which  the  old  order 
presented  in  this  respect.  Take  the  women  in  the  first  place, 
half  the  human  race.  Because  they  stood  almost  univer- 
sally in  a  relation  of  economic  dependence,  first  upon  men 
in  general  and  next  upon  some  man  in  particular,  they 
were  all  their  lives  in  a  state  of  subjection  both  to  the  per- 
sonal dictation  of  some  individual  man,  and  to  a  set  of  irk- 
some and  mind-benumbing  conventions  representing  tradi- 
tional standards  of  opinion  as  to  their  proper  conduct  fixed 
in  accordance  with  the  masculine  sentiment.  But  if  the 
women  had  no  independence  at  all,  the  men  were  not  so 
very  much  better  off.  Of  the  masculine  half  of  the  world, 
the  greater  part  were  hirelings  dependent  for  their  living 
upon  the  favor  of  employers  and  having  the  most  direct  in- 
terest to  conform  so  far  as  possible  in  opinions  and  conduct 
to  the  prejudices  of  their  masters,  and,  when  they  could  not 
conform,  to  be  silent.  Look  at  your  secret  ballot  laws.  You 
thought  them  absolutely  necessary  in  order  to  enable  work- 
ingmen  to  vote  freely.  What  a  confession  is  that  fact  of 
the  universal  intimidation  of  the  employed  by  the  employer ! 
Next  there  were  the  business  men,  who  held  themselves  above 
the  workingmen.  I  mean  the  tradesmen,  who  sought  a  liv- 
ing by  persuading  the  people  to  buy  of  them.  But  here  our 
quest  of  independence  is  even  more  hopeless  than  among 


THE  BOOK   OF  THE  BLIND.  401 

the  workingmen,  for,  in  order  to  be  successful  in  attracting 
the  custom  of  those  whom  they  cringingly  styled  their 
patrons,  it  was  necessary  for  the  merchant  to  be  all  things 
to  all  men,  and  to  make  an  art  of  obsequiousness. 

'•  Let  us  look  yet  higher.  We  may  surely  expect  to  fmd 
independence  of  thought  and  speech  among  the  learned 
classes  in  the  so-called  liberal  professions  if  nowhere  else. 
Let  us  see  how  our  inquiry  fares  there.  Take  the  clerical 
profession  first— that  of  the  religious  ministers  and  teacliers. 
We  find  that  they  were  economic  servants  and  hirelings 
either  of  hierarchies  or  congregations,  and  paid  to  voice  the 
opinions  of  their  employers  and  no  others.  Every  word 
that  dropped  from  their  lips  was  carefully  weighed  lest  it 
should  indicate  a  trace  of  independent  thinking,  and  if 
it  were  found,  the  clergyman  risked  his  living.  Take  the 
higher  branches  of  secular  teaching  in  the  colleges  and  pro- 
fessions. There  seems  to  have  been  some  freedom  allowed 
in  teaching  the  dead  languages ;  but  let  the  instructor  take 
up  some  living  issue  and  handle  it  in  a  manner  inconsistent 
with  the  capitalist  interest,  and  you  know  w^ell  enough  what 
became  of  him.  Finally,  take  the  editorial  profession,  the 
writers  for  the  press,  who  on  the  whole  represented  the 
most  influential  branch  of  the  learned  class.  The  great 
nineteenth-century  newspaper  was  a  capitalistic  enterprise 
as  imrely  commercial  in  its  principle  as  a  woolen  factory, 
and  the  editors  were  no  more  allowed  to  write  their  own 
opinions  than  the  weavers  to  choose  the  patterns  they  wove. 
They  were  employed  to  advocate  the  opinions  and  interests 
of  the  capitalists  owning  the  paper  and  no  others.  The  only 
respect  in  which  the  journalists  seem  to  have  differed  from 
the  clergy  was  in  the  fact  that  the  creeds  which  the  latter 
were  employed  to  preach  were  more  or  less  fixed  traditions, 
while  those  which  the  editors  must  preach  changed  with  the 
ownership  of  the  paper.  This,  Julian,  is  the  truly  exhilarat- 
ing spectacle  of  abounding  and  unfettered  originality,  of 
sturdy  moral  and  intellectual  independence  and  rugged  in- 
dividuality, which  it  was  feared  by  your  contemporaries 
might  be  endangered  by  any  change  in  the  economic  sys- 
tem. We  may  agree  with  them  that  it  would  have  been  in- 
deed a  pity  if  any  influence  should  operate  to  make  inde- 


402  EQUALITY. 

pendence  any  rarer  than  it  was,  but  they  need  not  have 
been  apprehensive ;  it  could  not  be." 

"  Judging  from  these  examples  of  the  sort  of  argumenta- 
tive opposition  which  the  revolutionists  had  to  meet,"  I 
observed,  "  it  strikes  me  that  they  must  have  had  a  mighty 
easy  time  of  it."' 

"So  far  as  rational  argument  was  concerned,''  replied 
the  doctor,  "  no  great  revolutionary  movement  ever  had  to 
contend  with  so  little  opposition.  The  cause  of  the  capital- 
ists was  so  utterly  bad,  either  from  the  point  of  view  of 
ethics,  politics,  or  economic  science,  that  there  was  literally 
nothing  that  could  be  said  for  it  that  could  not  be  turned 
against  it  with  greater  effect.  Silence  was  the  only  safe 
policy  for  the  capitalists,  and  they  would  have  been  glad 
enough  to  follow  it  if  the  people  had  not  insisted  that  they 
should  make  some  sort  of  a  plea  to  the  indictment  against 
them.  But  because  the  argumentative  opposition  which  the 
revolutionists  had  to  meet  was  contemptible  in  quality,  it 
did  not  follow  that  their  work  was  an  easy  one.  Their  real 
task — and  it  was  one  for  giants — was  not  to  dispose  of  the 
arguments  against  their  cause,  but  to  overcome  the  moral 
and  intellectual  inertia  of  the  masses  and  rouse  them  to  do 
just  a  little  clear  thinking  for  themselves. 

POLITICAL  CORRUPTION  AS  AN  OBJECTION  TO  NATIONALIZING 
INDUSTRY. 

"The  next  objection — there  are  only  two  or  three  more 
worth  mentioning — is  directed  not  so  much  against  eco- 
nomic equality  in  itself  as  against  the  fitness  of  the  ma- 
chinery by  which  the  new  industrial  system  was  to  be 
carried  on.  The  extension  of  popular  government  over 
industry  and  commerce  involved  of  course  the  substitution 
of  public  and  political  administration  on  a  large  scale  for 
the  previous  irresponsible  control  of  private  capitalists. 
Now,  as  I  need  not  tell  you,  the  Government  of  the  United 
States — municipal,  State,  and  national — in  the  last  third  of 
the  nineteenth  century  had  become  very  corrupt.  It  was 
argued  that  to  intrust  any  additional  functions  to  govern- 
ments so  corrupt  would  be  nothing  short  of  madness." 

"  Ah  I "  I  exclaimed,  "  that  is  perhaps  the  rational  objec- 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  BLIND.  403 

tion  we  have  been  waiting  for.  I  am  sure  it  is  one  that 
would  have  weighed  heavily  with  me,  for  the  corruption  of 
our  governmental  system  smelled  to  heaven." 

''  There  is  no  doubt"  said  the  doctor,  "  that  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  political  corruption  and  that  it  was  a  very  bad 
thing:  but  we  must  look  a  little  deeper  than  these  objectors 
did  t'o  see  the  true  bearing  of  this  fact  on  the  propriety  of 
nationalizing  industry. 

"  An  instance  of  political  corruption  was  one  where  the 
public  servant  abused  his  trust  by  using  the  administration 
under  his  control  for  purposes  of  private  gain  instead  of 
solely  for  the  public  interest— that  is  to  say,  he  managed  his 
public  trust  just  as  if  it  were  his  private  business  and  tried 
to  make  a  profit  out  of  it.  A  great  outcry  was  made,  and 
very  properly,  when  any  such  conduct  was  suspected ;  and 
therefore  the  corrupt  officers  operated  under  great  difficul- 
ties, and  were  in  constant  danger  of  detection  and  punish- 
ment. Consequently,  even  in  the  worst  governments  of 
your  period  the  mass  of  business  was  honestly  conducted,  as 
it  professed  to  be,  in  the  public  interest,  comparatively  few 
and  occasional  transactions  being  affected  by  corrupt  in- 
fluences. 

-  On  the  other  hand,  what  were  the  theory  and  practice 
pursued  by  the  capitalists  in  carrying  on  the  economic 
machinery  which  were  under  their  control  ?  They  did  not 
profess  tJ  act  in  the  public  interest  or  to  have  any  regard 
for  it  The  avowed  object  of  their  whole  policy  was  so  to 
use  the  machinery  of  their  position  as  to  make  the  greatest 
personal  gains  possible  for  themselves  out  of  the  community. 
That  is  to  say,  the  use  of  his  control  of  the  public  ma- 
chinery for  his  personal  gain— which  on  the  part  of  the 
public  official  was  denounced  and  punished  as  a  crime,  and 
for  the  greater  part  prevented  by  public  vigilance— was  the 
avowed  policy  of  the  capitalist.  It  was  the  pride  of  the 
public  official  that  he  left  office  as  poor  as  when  he  entered 
it,  but  it  was  the  boast  of  the  capitalist  that  he  made  a  for- 
tune out  of  the  opportunities  of  his  position.  In  the  case  of 
the  capitalist  these  gains  were  not  called  corrupt,  as  they 
were  when  made  by  public  officials  in  the  discharge  of  pub- 
lic business.    They  were  called   profits,   and  regarded  as 


404  EQUALITY. 

legitimate;  but  the  practical  point  to  consider  as  to  the 
results  of  the  two  systems  was  that  these  profits  cost  the 
people  they  came  out  of  just  as  much  as  if  they  had  been 
called  political  plunder. 

'•  And  yet  these  wise  men  in  Kenloe's  collection  taught 
the  people,  and  somebody  must  have  listened  to  thenT,  that 
because  in  some  instances  public  officials  succeeded  in  spite 
of  all  precautions  in  using  the  public  administration  for 
their  own  gain,  it  would  not  be  safe  to  put  any  more  public 
interests  under  public  administration,  but  would  be  safer 
to  leave  them  to  private  capitalists,  who  frankly  proposed 
as  their  regular  policy  just  what  the  public  officials  were 
punished  Avhenever  caught  doing — namely,  taking  advan- 
tage of  the  opportunities  of  their  position  to  enrich  them- 
selves at  public  expense.  It  was  precisely  as  if  the  owner 
of  an  estate,  finding  it  difficult  to  secure  stewards  who 
were  perfectly  faithful,  should  be  counseled  to  protect 
himself  by  putting  his  affairs  in  the  hands  of  professional 
thieves." 

"  You  mean,''  I  said,  "  that  political  corruption  merely 
meant  the  occasional  application  to  the  public  administra- 
tion of  the  profit-seeking  principle  on  which  all  private  busi- 
ness was  conducted." 

"  Certainly.  A  case  of  corruption  in  office  was  sinipl}^  a 
case  where  the  public  official  forgot  his  oath  and  for  the  oc- 
casion took  a  businesslike  view  of  tlie  opportunities  of  his 
position — that  is  to  say,  when  the  public  official  fell  from 
grace  he  only  fell  to  the  normal  level  on  which  all  private 
business  was  admittedly  conducted.  It  is  simply  astonish- 
ing, Julian,  how  completely  your  contemporaries  ovei'looked 
this  obvious  fact.  Of  course,  it  was  highly  proper  that  they 
should  be  extremely  critical  of  the  conduct  of  their  public 
officials  ;  but  it  is  unaccountable  that  they  should  fail  to  see 
that  the  profits  of  private  capitalists  came  out  of  the  com- 
munity's pockets  just  as  certainly  as  did  the  stealings  of  dis- 
honest officials,  and  that  even  in  the  most  corrupt  public 
departments  the  stealings  represented  a  far  less  percentage 
than  would  have  been  taken  as  profits  if  the  same  business 
were  done  for  the  public  by  capitalists. 

"  So  much  for  the  precious  argument  that,  because  some 


THE   BOOK  OF  THE   BLIND.  405 

officials  sometimes  took  profits  of  the  people,  it  would  be 
more  economical  to  leave  their  business  in  the  hands  of 
those  who  would  systematically  do  so  !  But,  of  course,  al- 
though the  public  conduct  of  business,  even  if  it  were 
marked  with  a  certain  amount  of  corruption,  would  still  be 
more  economical  for  the  coromunity  than  leaving  it  under 
the  profit  system,  yet  no  self-respecting  community  would 
wish  to  tolerate  any  public  corruption  at  all,  and  need  not, 
if  only  the  people  would  exercise  vigilance.  Now,  what 
will  compel  the  people  to  exercise  vigilance  as  to  the  public 
administration  ?  The  closeness  with  which  we  follow  the 
course  of  an  agent  depends  on  the  importance  of  the  inter- 
ests put  in  his  hands.  Corruption  has  always  thrived  in 
political  departments  in  which  the  mass  of  the  people  have 
felt  little  direct  concern.  Place  under  public  administra- 
tion vital  concerns  of  the  community  touching  their  wel- 
fare daily  at  many  points,  and  there  will  be  no  further 
lack  of  vigilance.  Had  they  been  wiser,  the  people  who 
objected  to  the  governmental  assumption  of  new  economic 
functions  on  account  of  existing  political  corruption  would 
have  advocated  precisely  that  policy  as  the  specific  cure  for 
the  evil. 

"  A  reason  why  these  objectors  seem  to  have  been  espe- 
cially short-sighted  is  the  fact  that  by  all  odds  the  most 
serious  form  which  political  corruption  took  in  America  at 
that  day  was  the  bribery  of  legislators  by  private  capital- 
ists and  corporations  in  order  to  obtain  franchises  and 
privileges.  In  comparison  with  this  abuse,  peculation  or 
bribery  of  crude  direct  sorts  were  of  little  extent  or  im- 
portance. Now,  the  immediate  and  express  effect  of  the 
governmental  assumption  of  economic  businesses  would 
be,  so  fai^  as  it  went,  to  dry  up  this  source  of  corruption, 
for  it  was  precisely  this  class  of  capitalist  undertakings 
which  the  revolutionists  proposed  first  to  bring  under  pub- 
lic control. 

"Of  course,  this  objection  was  directed  only  against  the 
new  order  while  in  process  of  introduction.  With  its  com- 
plete establishment  the  very  possibility  of  corruption  would 
disappear  with  the  law  of  absolute  uniformity  governing  all 
incomes. 

?7 


406  EQUALITY. 

"  Worse  and  worse,"  I  exclaimed.  "  What  is  the  use  of 
going  further  ? " 

"Patience,"  said  the  doctor.  '"Let  us  complete  the  sub- 
ject while  we  are  on  it.  There  are  only  a  couple  more  of 
the  objections  that  have  shape  enough  to  admit  of  being 
stated." 

OBJECTIOX  THAT  A  NATIONALIZED   INDUSTRIAL  SYSTEM 
WOULD   THREATEN  LIBERTY. 

"  The  first  of  them,"  pursued  the  doctor,  "  was  the  argu- 
ment that  such  an  extension  of  the  functions  of  public  ad- 
ministration as  nationalized  industries  involved  would  lodge 
a  power  in  the  hands  of  the  Government,  even  though  it 
were  the  people's  own  government,  that  would  be  dangerous 
to  their  liberties. 

"  All  the  plausibility  there  was  to  this  objection  rested 
on  the  tacit  assumption  that  the  people  in  their  industrial 
relations  had  under  private  capitalism  been  free  and  un- 
constrained and  subject  to  no  form  of  authority.  But 
what  assumption  could  have  been  more  regardless  of  facts 
than  this  ?  Under  private  capitalism  the  entire  scheme  of 
industry  and  commerce,  involving  the  employment  and 
livelihood  of  everybody,  was  subject  to  the  despotic  and 
irresponsible  government  of  private  masters.  The  very  de- 
mand for  nationalizing  industry  has  resulted  wholly  from 
the  sufferings  of  the  people  under  the  yoke  of  the  capi- 
talists. 

"In  1776  the  Americans  overthrew  the  British  royal  gov- 
ernment in  the  colonies  and  established  their  own  in  its  place. 
Suppose  at  that  time  the  king  had  sent  an  embassy  to  warn 
the  American  people  that  by  assuming  these  new  functions 
of  government  which  formerly  had  been  performed  for 
them  by  him  they  were  endangering  their  liberty.  Such 
an  embassy  would,  of  course,  have  been  laughed  at.  If  any 
reply  had  been  thought  needful,  it  would  have  been  pointed 
out  that  the  Americans  were  not  establishing  over  them- 
selves any  new  government,  but  were  substituting  a  gov- 
ernment of  their  own,  acting  in  their  own  interests,  for  the 
government  of  others  conducted  in  an  indifferent  or  hostile 
interest.     Now,  that  was  precisely  what  nationalizing  indus- 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  BLIND.  407 

try  meant.  The  question  was,  Given  the  necessity  of  some 
sort  of  regulation  and  direction  of  the  industrial  system, 
whether  it  would  tend  more  to  liberty  for  the  people  to 
leave  that  power  to  irresponsible  persons  with  hostile  inter- 
ests, or  to  exercise  it  themselves  through  responsible  agents  ? 
Could  there  conceivably  be  but  one  answer  to  that  question  ? 

"And  yet  it  seems  that  a  noted  philosopher  of  the  pe- 
riod, in  a  tract  which  has  come  down  to  us,  undertook 
to  demonstrate  that  if  the  people  perfected  the  demo- 
cratic system  by  assuming  control  of  industry  in  the  public 
interest,  they  would  presently  fall  into  a  state  of  slavery 
which  would  cause  them  to  sigh  for  the  days  of  Nero  and 
Caligula.  I  wish  we  had  that  philosopher  here,  that  we 
might  ask  him  how,  in  accordance  with  any  observed  laws 
of  human  nature,  slavery  was  going  to  come  about  as 
the  result  of  a  system  aiming  to  establish  and  jjerpetuate  a 
more  perfect  degree  of  equality,  intellectual  as  well  as  ma- 
terial, than  had  ever  been  known.  Did  he  fancy  that  the 
people  would  deliberately  and  maliciously  impose  a  yoke 
upon  themselves,  or  did  he  apprehend  that  some  usurper 
would  get  hold  of  the  social  machinery  and  use  it  to  reduce 
the  people  to  servitude  ?  But  what  usurper  from  the  begin- 
ning ever  essayed  a  task  so  hopeless  as  the  subversion  of 
a  state  in  w^iich  there  were  no  classes  or  interests  to  set 
against  one  another,  a  state  in  which  there  was  no  aristocracy 
and  no  populace,  a  state  the  stability  of  which  represented 
the  equal  and  entire  stake  in  life  of  every  human  being  in 
it  ?  Truly  it  would  seem  that  people  who  conceived  the  sub- 
version of  such  a  republic  possible  ought  to  have  lost  no 
time  in  chaining  doAvn  the  Pyramids,  lest  they,  too,  defying 
ordinary  laws  of  Nature,  should  incontinently  turn  upon 
their  tops. 

''  But  let  us  leave  the  dead  to  bury  their  dead,  and  consider 
how^  the  nationalization  of  industry  actually  did  affect  the 
bearing  of  government  upon  the  people.  If  the  amount 
of  governmental  machinery — that  is,  the  amount  of  regu- 
lating, controlling,  assigning,  and  directing  under  the  pub- 
lic management  of  industry — had  continued  to  be  just 
the  same  it  was  under  the  private  administration  of  the 
capitalists,  the  fact  that  it  was  now  the  people's  government. 


408  EQUALITY. 

managing"  everything"  in  the  people's  interest  under  responsi- 
bility to  the  people,  instead  of  an  irresponsible  tyranny  seek- 
ing its  own  interest,  would  of  course  make  an  absolute  differ- 
ence in  the  whole  character  and  effect  of  the  system  and 
make  it  vastly  more  tolerable.  But  not  merely  did  the 
nationalization  of  industry  give  a  wholly  new  character  and 
purpose  to  the  economic  administration,  but  it  also  greatly 
diminished  the  net  amount  of  governing  necessary  to  carry 
it  on.  This  resulted  naturally  from  the  unity  of  system  with 
the  consequent  co-ordination  and  interworking  of  all  the 
parts  which  took  the  place  of  the  former  thousand-headed 
management  following  as  many  different  and  conflicting 
lines  of  interest,  each  a  law  to  itself.  To  the  workers  the  dif- 
ference was  as  if  they  had  passed  out  from  under  the  capri- 
cious personal  domination  of  innumerable  petty  despots  to  a 
government  of  laws  and  principles  so  simple  and  systematic 
that  the  sense  of  being  subject  to  personal  authority  was 
gone. 

But  to  fully  realize  how  strongly  this  argument  of  too 
much  government  directed  against  the  system  of  national- 
ized industry  partook  of  the  boomerang  quality  of  the  pre- 
vious objections,  we  must  look  on  to  the  later  effects  which 
the  social  justice  of  the  new  order  would  naturally  have  to 
render  superfluous  well-nigh  the  whole  machinery  of  gov- 
ernment as  previously  conducted.  The  main,  often  almost 
sole,  business  of  governments  in  your  day  was  the  protection 
of  property  and  person  against  criminals,  a  system  involving 
a  vast  amount  of  interference  with  the  innocent.  This  func- 
tion of  the  state  has  now  become  almost  obsolete.  There  are 
no  more  any  disputes  about  property,  any  thefts  of  property, 
or  any  need  of  protecting  property.  Everybody  has  all  he 
needs  and  as  much  as  anybody  else.  In  former  ages  a  great 
number  of  crimes  have  resulted  from  the  passions  of  love 
and  jealousy.  They  were  consequences  of  the  idea  derived 
from  immemorial  barbarism  that  men  and  women  might 
acquire  sexual  proprietorship  in  one  another,  to  be  main- 
tained and  asserted  against  the  will  of  the  person.  Such 
crimes  ceased  to  be  known  after  the  first  generation  had 
grown  uj)  under  the  absolute  sexual  autonomy  and  inde- 
pendence which  followed  from  economic  equality.     There 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  BLIND. 


409 


being  no  lower  classes  now  whicli  upper  classes  feel  it  their 
duty  to  bring  up  in  the  way  tliey  should  go,  in  spite  of 
themselves,  all  sorts  of  attempts  to  regulate  personal  be- 
havior in  self-regarding  matters  by  sumptuary  legislation 
have  long  ago  ceased.  A  g-overnment  in  the  sense  of  a  co- 
ordinating directory  of  our  associated  industries  we  shall 
always  need,  but  that  is  practically  all  the  government  we 
have  now.  It  used  to  be  a  dream  of  philosophers  that  the 
world  would  some  time  enjoy  sucli  a  reign  of  i-eason  and  jus- 
tice that  men  would  be  able  to  live  together  without  laws. 
That  condition,  so  far  as  concerns  punitive  and  coercive 
regulations,  we  have  practically  attained.  As  to  compulsory 
Jaws,  we  might  be  said  to  live  almost  in  a  state  of  anarchy. 

"  There  is,  as  I  explained  to  you  in  the  Labor  Exchange 
the  other  morning,  no  compulsion,  in  the  end,  even  as  to  the 
performance  of  the  universal  duty  of  public  service.  We 
only  insist  that  those  who  finally  refuse  to  do  their  part 
toward  maintaining  the  social  welfare  shall  not  be  partakers 
of  it,  but  shall  resort  by  themselves  and  provide  for  them- 
selves. 

THE   MALTHUSIAN  OBJECTION. 

"  And  now  we  come  to  the  last  objection  on  my  list.  It  is 
entirely  different  in  character  from  any  of  the  others.  It 
does  not  deny  that  economic  equality  would  be  practicable 
or  desirable,  or  assert  that  the  machinery  would  work  badly. 
It  admits  that  the  system  would  prove  a  triumphant  success 
in  raising  human  welfare  to  an  unprecedented  point  and 
making  the  world  an  incomparably  more  agreeable  place 
to  live  in.  It  was  indeed  the  conceded  success  of  the  plan 
which  was  made  the  basis  of  this  objection  to  it." 

"  That  must  be  a  curious  sort  of  objection,"  I  said.  "  Let 
us  hear  about  it." 

The  objectors  put  it  in  this  way  :  '  Let  us  suppose,'  they 
said,  '  that  poverty  and  all  the  baneful  influences  upon  life 
and  health  that  follow  in  its  train  are  abolished  and  all  live 
out  their  natural  span  of  life.  Everybody  being  assured  of 
maintenance  for  self  and  children,  no  motive  of  prudence 
would  be  operative  to  restrict  the  number  of  offspring. 
Other  things  being  equal,  these  conditions  would  mean  a 


410  EQUALITY. 

much  faster  increase  of  population  than  ever  before  known, 
and  ultimately  an  overcrowding  of  the  earth  and  a  pressure 
on  the  food  supply,  unless  indeed  we  suppose  new  and  in- 
definite food  sources  to  be  found  ? '  " 

"  I  do  not  see  why  it  might  not  be  reasonable  to  antici- 
pate such  a  result,"  I  observed,  "other  things  being  equal." 

"  Other  things  being  equal,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  such  a 
result  might  be  anticipated.  But  other  things  would  not  be 
equal,  but  so  diilerent  that  their  influence  could  be  depended 
on  to  prevent  any  such  result." 

"  What  are  the  other  things  that  would  not  be  equal  ?  " 

"  Well,  the  first  would  be  the  diffusion  of  education,  cul- 
ture, and  general  refinement.  Tell  me,  were  the  families  of 
the  well-to-do  and  cultured  class  in  the  America  of  your 
day,  as  a  whole,  large  ?  " 

"  Quite  the  contrary.  They  did  not,  as  a  rule,  more  than 
replace  themselves." 

"  Still,  they  were  not  prevented  by  any  motive  of  pru- 
dence from  increasing  their  numbers.  They  occupied  in  this 
respect  as  independent  a  position  as  families  do  under  the 
present  order  of  economic  equality  and  guaranteed  main- 
tenance. Did  it  never  occur  to  you  why  the  families  of  the 
well-to-do  and  cultured  in  your  day  were  not  larger  ? " 

"  Doubtless,"  I  said,  "  it  was  on  account  of  the  fact  that 
in  proportion  as  culture  and  refinement  opened  intellectual 
and  aBsthetic  fields  of  interest,  the  impulses  of  crude  animal- 
ism played  less  important  parts  in  life.  Then,  too,  in  pro- 
portion as  families  were  refined  the  woman  ceased  to  be  the 
mere  sexual  slave  of  the  husband,  and  her  wishes  as  to  such 
matters  were  considered." 

"  Quite  so.  The  reflection  you  have  suggested  is  enough 
to  indicate  the  fallacy  of  the  whole  Malthusian  theory  of 
the  increase  of  population  on  which  this  objection  to  better 
social  conditions  was  founded.  Malthus,  as  you  know,  held 
that  population  tended  to  increase  faster  than  means  of  sub- 
sistence, and  therefore  that  poverty  and  the  tremendous 
wastes  of  life  it  stood  for  were  absolutely  necessary  in 
order  to  prevent  the  world  from  starving  to  death  by  over- 
crowding. Of  course,  this  doctrine  was  enormously  popu- 
lar with  the  rich  and  learned  class,  who  were  responsible 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  BLIND.  4H 

for  the  world's  misery.  They  naturaHy  were  deHghted 
to  be  assured  that  their  inditfereiice  to  the  woes  of  tlie 
poor,  and  even  their  positive  agency  in  multiplying  those 
woes,  were  providentially  overruled  for  good,  so  as  to  be 
really  rather  praiseworthy  than  otherwise.  The  Malthus 
doctrine  also  was  very  convenient  as  a  means  of  turning  the 
tables  on  reformers  who  proposed  to  abolish  poverty  by 
proving  that,  instead  of  benefiting  mankind,  their  reforms 
would  only  make  matters  worse  in  the  end  by  overcrowd- 
ing the  earth  and  starving  everybody.  By  means  of  the 
Malthus  doctrine,  the  meanest  man  who  ever  ground  the 
face  of  the  poor  had  no  difficulty  in  showing  that  he  was 
really  a  slightly  disguised  benefactor  of  the  race,  while  the 
philanthropist  was  an  injurious  fellow. 

"  This  prodigious  convenience  of  Malthusianism  has  an 
excuse  for  things  as  they  were,  furnishes  the  explanation 
for  the  otherwise  incomprehensible  vogue  of  so  absurd  a 
theory.  That  absurdity  consists  in  the  fact  that,  while  lay- 
ing such  stress  on  the  direct  effects  of  poverty  and  all  the 
ills  it  stands  for  to  destroy  life,  it  utterly  failed  to  allow  for 
the  far  greater  influence  which  the  brutalizing  circum- 
stances of  poverty  exerted  to  promote  the  reckless  multipli- 
cation of  the  species.  Poverty,  with  all  its.  deadly  conse- 
quences, slew  its  millions,  but  only  after  having,  by  means 
of  its  brutalizing  conditions,  promoted  the  reckless  repro- 
duction of  tens  of  millions— that  is  to  say,  the  Malthus 
doctrine  recognized  only  the  secondary  effects  of  misery 
and  degradation  in  reducing  population,  and  whollj^  over- 
looked their  far  more  important  primary  effect  in  multiply- 
ing it.     That  was  its  fatal  fallacy. 

"  It  was  a  fallacy  the  more  inexcusable  because  Malthus 
and  all  his  followers  were  surrounded  by  a  society  the  con- 
ditions of  which  absolutely  refuted  their  theory.  They 
had  only  to  open  their  eyes  to  see  that  wherever  the  poverty 
and  squalor  chiefly  abounded,  which  they  vaunted  as  such 
valuable  checks  to  population,  humankind  multiplied  like 
rabbits,  while  in  proportion  as  the  economic  level  of  a  class 
was  raised  its  proliferousness  declined.  What  corollary 
from  this  fact  of  universal  observation  could  be  more  ob- 
vious than  that  the  way  to  prevent  reckless  overpopula- 


412  EQUALITY. 

tion  was  to  raise,  not  to  depress,  the  economic  status  of 
the  mass,  with  all  the  general  improvement  in  well-being 
which  that  implied  ?  How  long  do  you  suppose  such  an 
absurdly  fundamental  fallacy  as  underlay  the  Malthus  the- 
ory would  have  remained  unexposed  if  Malthus  had  been  a 
rev^olutionist  instead  of  a  champion  and  defender  of  capital- 
ism ? 

"  But  let  Malthus  go.  While  the  low  birth-rate  among 
the  cultured  classes — whose  condition  was  the  prototype  of 
the  general  condition  under  economic  equality — was  refu- 
tation enough  of  the  overpopulation  objection,  yet  there  is 
another  and  far  more  conclusive  answer,  the  full  force  of 
which  remains  to  be  brought  out.  You  said  a  few  moments 
ago  that  one  reason  why  the  birth-rate  was  so  moderate  among 
the  cultured  classes  w^as  the  fact  that  in  that  class  the  wishes 
of  women  were  more  considered  than  in  the  lower  classes. 
The  necessary  effect  of  economic  equality  between  the  sexes 
would  mean,  however,  that,  instead  of  being  more  or  less 
considered,  the  wishes  of  women  in  all  matters  touching  the 
subject  we  are  discussing  would  be  final  and  absolute.  Pre- 
vious to  the  establishment  of  economic  equality  by  the 
great  Revolution  the  non-child-bearing  sex  was  the  sex 
which  determined  the  question  of  child-bearing,  and  the 
natural  consequence  was  the  possibility  of  a  Malthus  and 
his  doctrine.  Nature  has  provided  in  the  distress  and  in- 
convenience of  the  maternal  function  a  sufficient  check 
upon  its  abuse,  just  as  she  has  in  regard  to  all  the  other  natu- 
ral functions.  But,  in  order  that  Nature's  check  should  be 
properly  operative,  it  is  necessary  that  the  women  through 
whose  wills  it  must  operate,  if  at  all,  should  be  absolutely 
free  agents  in  the  disposition  of  themselves,  and  the  neces- 
sary condition  of  that  free  agency  is  economic  independ- 
ence. That  secured,  while  we  may  be  sure  that  the  mater- 
nal instinct  will  forever  prevent  the  race  from  dying  out,  the 
world  will  be  equally  little  in  danger  of  being  recklessly 
overcrowded." 


THE   END. 


D.  APPLETON   AND  COMPANY'S  PUBLIGATfONS. 


JV^ 


HAMLIN    GARLAND'S    BOOKS. 
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'AY SIDE   COURTSHIPS. 


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.  .  No  one  can  read  tins  collection  of  short  stories  witliout  feeling  that  he  is  master 
of  the  subject."— C/i/Vrt^v  Jonrfial. 

"  One  of  the  most  delightful  books  of  short  stories  wliich  have  coma  to  our  notice  in 
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J 


ASON  ED  WARDS.     An  Average  Man. 


The  average  man  in  the  industrial  ranks  is  presented  in  this  story  in  as  lifelike 
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A 


MEMBER   OF    THE    THIRD   HOUSE. 

Story  of  Political  Warfare. 


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A 


SPOIL  OF  OFFICE.     A    Story   of  the   Modern 

West. 

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A 


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T 


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M 


AGGIE:    A     GIRL     OF     THE     STREETS. 

i2mo.     Cloth,  75  cents. 

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T 


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tion. To  our  mind  this  just  published  work  of  his  is  his  best.  .  .  .  He  is  a  master  ol 
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/^OnS  FOOL.     By  Maarten    Maartens.      i2mo. 
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"  A  remarkable  work." — N'eiv  York  Times. 

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phia  Ledger. 

"  Its  preface  alone  stamps  the  author  as  one  of  the  leading  English  novelists  of 
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— Boston  Times. 

"A  story  of  remarkable  interest  and  point." — New  York  Observer. 


7 


VOST  AVELINGH.      By  Maarten    Maartens. 

l2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

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istic."— London  Literary  World, 

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Telegraph. 

"  Maarten  Maartens  is  a  capital  story-teller." — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

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T 


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which  all  the  people  aie  such  as  might  be  found  in  almost  any  Southern  village  before 
the  war,  and  the  uicidants  are  those  of  the  social  life  of  the  people,  uncomplicated  by 
anything  which  happened  during  the  late  unpleasantness.." — New  York  Herald. 

"These  ten  short  stories  are  full  of  queer  people,  who  not  only  talk  but  act  in  a  sort 
of  dialect.  Their  one  interest  is  their  winning  oddity.  They  are  as  truly  native  to  the 
soil  as  are  the  people  of  '  Widow  Guthrie.'  In  both  books  the  humor  is  genuine,  and 
the  local  coloring  is  bright  and  attractive." — New  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 


T 


HE  CHRONICIES  OF  MR.  BIIL  WILLIAMS. 

(Dukesborough    Tales.)     i2mo.     Paper,  50  cents  ;   cloth,  with 
Portrait  of  the  Author,  $1.00. 

"  A  delightful  oricjinality  characterizes  these  stories,  which  may  take  a  high  rank 
in  our  native  fiction  th^t  depicts  the  various  phases  of  the  national  life.  Their  humor 
is  equally  genuine  and  keen,  and  their  pathos  is  delicate  and  searching." — Boston 
Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 

"  Stripped  of  their  bristling  envelope  of  dialect,  the  core  of  these  experiences  emerges 
as  lumps  of  pure  comedy,  as  refreshing  as  traveler's  trees  in  a  thirsty  land;  and  the 
literary  South  may  be  grateful  that  it  has  a  living  writer  able  and  willing  to  cultivate  a 
neglected  patch  of  its  wide  domain  with  such  charming  skill." — The  Critic. 


M 


R.  FORTNER'S  MARITAL  CLAIMS,  and  Other 

Stories.     i6mo.     Boards,  50  cents. 

"When  the  last  story  is  finished  we  feel,  in  imitation  of  Oliver  Twist,  like  asking 
for  more." — Public  Opinion. 

"Quaint  and  lifelike  pictures,  as  characteristic  in  dialect  as  in  description,  of 
Georgia  scenes  and  characters,  and  the  quaintness  of  its  humor  is  entertaining  and 
delightful." — Washington  Public  Opinion. 


D.  APPLETON    &   CO..  72  Fifth  Avenue.  New  York. 


D.  APPLETON  &   CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

A    JOURNEY  IN  OTHER    WORLDS.     A   Ro- 

"*  -^    majice  of  the  Future.    By  John  Jacob  AsTOR.    With  9  full -page 

Illustrations  by  Dan  Beard.   i2mo.   Paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1,500 

"An  interesting  and  cleverly  devised  book.  .  .  .  No  lack  of  imagination.  „  o  . 
Shows  a  skillful  and  wide  acquaintance  with  scientific  facts." — Neiv  York  Herald. 

"The  author  speculates  cleverly  and  daringly  on  the  scientific  advance  of  the  earth, 
and  he  revels  in  the  physical  luxuiiance  of  Jupiter;  but  he  also  lets  his  imagination 
travel  through  spiritual  realms,  and  evidently  delights  In  mystic  speculation  quite  as 
much  as  in  scientific  investigation.  If  he  is  a  follower  of  Jules  Verne,  he  has  not  forgot- 
ten also  to  study  the  philosophers." — New  York  Tribune. 

"  A  beautiful  example  of  typographical  art  and  the  bookmaker's  skill.  ...  To 
appreciate  the  story  one  must  read  it." — iWw  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 

"The  date  of  the  events  nanated  in  this  book  is  supposed  to  be  2000  a.  d.  The 
inhabitants  of  North  America  have  increased  mightily  in  numbers  and  power  and 
knowledge.  It  is  an  age  of  marvelous  scientific  attainments.  Flying  machines  have 
long  been  in  common  use,  and  finally  a  new  power  is  discovered  called  '  apergy,' 
the  reverse  of  gravitation,  by  which  people  are  able  to  fly  off  into  space  in  any  direc- 
tion, and  at  what  speed  they  please." — N^eiv  York  Sun. 

"  The  scientific  romance  by  John  Jacob  As  tor  is  more  than  likely  to  secure  a  dis- 
tinct popular  success,  and  achieve  widespread  vogue  both  as  an  amusing  and  interest- 
esting  story,  and  a  thoughtful  endeavor  to  prophesy  some  of  the  triumphs  which  science 
is  destined  to  win  by  the  year  2000.  The  book  has  been  written  with  a  purpose,  and 
that  a  higher  one  than  the  mere  spinning  of  a  highly  imaginative  yam.  Mr.  Astor  has 
been  engaged  upon  the  book  for  over  two  years,  and  has  brought  to  bear  upon  it  a 
great  deal  of  hard  work  in  the  way  of  scientific  research,  of  which  he  has  been  very  fond 
ever  since  he  entered  Harvard.  It  is  admirably  illustrated  by  Dan  Beard." — Mail  and 
Express. 

"  Mr.  Astor  has  himself  almost  all  the  qualities  imaginable  for  making  the  science  of 
astronomy  popular.  He  knows  the  learned  maps  of  the  astrologers.  He  knows  the 
work  of  Copernicus.  He  has  made  calculations  and  observations.  He  is  enthusiastic, 
and  the  spectacular  does  not  frighten  him." — New  York  Times. 

"The  work  will  remind  the  reader  very  much  of  Jules  Verne  in  its  general  plan  ot 
using  scientific  facts  and  speculation  as  a  skeleton  on  which  to  hang  the  romantic 
adventures  of  the  central  figures,  who  have  all  the  daring  ingenuity  and  luck  of  Mr. 
Verne's  heroes.  Mr.  Astor  uses  history  to  point  out  what  in  his  opinion  science  may 
be  expected  to  accomplish.     It  is  a  romance  with  a  purpose." — Chicago  Inter-Ocean, 

"  The  romance  contains  many  new  and  striking  developments  of  the  possibilities 
of  science  hereafter  to  be  explored,  but  the  volume  is  intensely  interesting,  both  as  a 
product  of  imagination  and  an  illustration  of  the  ingenious  and  original  application  ol 
science." — Rochester  Herald. 


New  York :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


D.   APPLETON   AND   COMPANY'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

SOME    NOTABLE    AMERICAN    FICTION 

IN 

APPLETONS'  TOWN   AND   COUNTRY  LIBRARY. 

Each,  i2mo,  cloth,  $i,cx};   paper,  50  cents. 


A 


T 


COLONIAL   FREE-LANCE.     By  Chauncey  C. 
HOTCHKiss,  author  of  "  In  Defiance  of  the  King." 

"We  have  had  stories  of  the  Revolution  dealing  with  its  statesmen,  its  soldiers, 
and  Its  home  life,  but  the  good  bioks  relating  to  adventure  by  sea  have  been  few  and 
far  between.  The  best  of  these  for  many  a  moon  is  '  A  Colonial  Free-Lance.'  There 
is  3  rattle  and  d.ish,  a  continuity  of  adventure  that  constantly  chains  the  reader's  atten- 
tion and  makes  the  book  delightful  reading." — Philadelphia  Inquirer. 

HE    SUN    OF    SARATOGA.       By   Joseph    A. 
Altsheler. 

_  "  Taken  altogether,'  The  Sun  of  Saratoga  '  is  the  best  historical  novel  of  American 
origin  that  has  been  written  for  years,  if  not,  indeed,  in  a  fresh,  simple,  unpretending 
unlabored,  manly  way,  thac  wc  have  ever  read."— zV^-w  York  Mail  and  Express.       ' 

ASTER  ARDICK,    BUCCANEER.     By  F.  H. 

COSTELLO. 

"This  storv^  is  one  of  the  real  old-fp-shioned  kind  that  novel  readers  will  take  de- 
light  in  perusing.  There  are  incident  and  adventure  in  plenty.  The  characters  are 
bold,  knighdy,  and  chivalrous,  and  delightful  entertainers." — Boston  Courier. 


M 


T 


HE    INTRIGUERS.       A    Novel.      By   John    D. 
Barry. 

"The  story  is  a  wholesome,  enlivening  bit  of  romance.  It  rings  pure  and  sweet,  and 
IS  most  happy  in  its  characterizations." — Boston  Herald. 

"A  bright  society  novel,  sparkling  with  wit  and  entertaining  from  beginning  to 
cwA."— Boston  Times. 

JN  DEFIANCE  OF  THE  KING.     A  Romance  of 
the  American  Revolution.     By  Chauncey  C.  Hotchkiss. 

"  Thrills  from  beginning  to  end  with  the  spirit  of  the  Revolution.  .  .  .  His  whole 
story  is  so  absorbing  that  you  will  sit  up  far  into  the  night  to  finish  it,  and  lay  it  aside 
with  the  feeling  that  you  have  seen  a  gloriously  true  picture  of  the  Revolution."— 5.;j- 
ton  Herald. 


/ 


N  OLD   NEW  ENGLAND.     The   Romance  of  a 

Colonial  Fireside.     By  Hezekiah  Butterworth. 

"We  do  not  remember  any  other  volume  which  holds  within  its  covers  a  series  of 
suih  charmins:  lesends  and  traditions  of  New  England's  earlier  history.  .  .  .  '  In  Old 
New  England '  possesses  a  charm  rare  indeed.  It  will  be  welcomed  by  yoiing  and  old 
sX\\l^: —New  York  Mail  and  Expi-ess. 


D.  APPLETON    AND    COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


D.   APPLETON   AND   COMPANY'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

THE   STORY   OF  THE   WEST  SERIES. 

Edited  by  Ripley  Hitchcock.     Each,  i2mo,  cloth,  illustrated,  $1.50. 

"  The  purpose  of  this  series  is  excellent.  Already  many  of  the  picturesque  and 
stirring  features  of  Western  life  have  been  completely  lost,  and  the  attempt  to  revive 
them  with  the  heba  of  the  imagination  has  not  been  an  unquahfied  success.  The 
editor's  woric  is  thCTafore  highly  commendable,  and  ought  to  meet  with  success."— 
Philadelphia  Press. 

HE  STORY  OF  THE  INDIAN.  By  George 
Bird  Grinnell,  author  of  "  Pawnee  Hero  Stories,"  "Black- 
foot  Lodge  Tales,"  etc. 

"  In  every  way  worthy  of  an  author  who  as  an  authority  upon  the  Western  Indians 
is  second  to  none.  A  book  full  of  color,  abounding  in  observation,  and  remarkable  in 
sustained  interest,  it  is  at  the  same  time  characterized  by  a  grace  of  style  which  is 
rarely  to  ba  looked  for  in  such  a  work,  and  which  adds  not  a  little  to  the  charm  of  it." 
— London  Daily  Chronicle. 

"  Only  an  ai'thor  qualified  by  personal  experience  could  offer  us  a  profitable  study 
of  a  race  so  alien  from  our  own  as  is  the  Indian  in  thought,  feeling,  and  culture.  Only 
long  association  with  Indians  can  enable  a  white  man  measurably  to  compiehend  thefr 
thou^h::s  and  enter  into  their  feelings.  Such  association  has  been  Mr.  Grinnell's."— 
A^cw  VorA  Sun. 


T 


T 


HE  STORY  OF  THE  MINE.  As  illustrated 
by  the  Great  Comstock  Lode  of  Nevada.  By  Charles  How- 
ard Shinn. 

"The  figures  of  the  prospector  and  the  miner  are  clearly  outlined  in  the  course  of 
the  romantic  story  of  that  natural  treasure-house  which  more  than  any  other  embodies 
the  romance,  the  vicissitude-,  the  triumphs,  the  excitement,  and  the  science  of  mining 
life." — San  Franc iscj  Examiner. 

"  The  author  has  written  a  book  not  alone  full  of  information,  but  replete  with  the 
true  romance  of  the  American  mine." — New  York  Times. 

r  HE  STORY  OF  THE  COWBOY.  By  E.  Hough, 
author  of  "The  Singing  Mouse  Stories,"  etc.  Illustrated  by 
Williaii  L.  Wells  and  C.  M.  Russell. 

"  In  the  history  o""  th=  pioneer  days  of  the  West  there  are  few  chapters  better  worth 
the  writing  tha  i  tiiat  which  deals  with  the  rise  and  growth  of  the  great  cattle  industry. 
.  .  .  Mr  Hough,  combining  actaal  knowledge  with  power  of  graphic  expression,  gives 
a  true  picture  of  this  fast-vanishing  representative  of  a  great  human  industry." — Neiu 
York  Sun. 

"  An  unusually  vivid  and  interesting  picture  of  Western  life.  .  .  .  This  book  is 
valuable  for  two  reasons  :  first,  because  it  is  a  true  history-  of  cowboy  life  ;  and,  second, 
because  it  gives  us  a  graphic  account  of  the  important  cattle  industry  of  the  West." — 
New  York  Herald. 

"  A  thoroughly  interesting  and  valuable  volume.  ...  At  once  history  and  litera- 
ture, with  the  added  merit  of  being  as  interesting  as  the  best  of  fiction." — Chicago 
Tribune. 

IN  PREPARATION. 

THE  STORY    OF    THE  RAILROAD.     By  Cy  Warman. 

THE  STORY    OF    THE  TRAPPER.     By  Gilbert  Parker. 

THE  STORY    OF    THE  SOLDIER. 

THE  STORY   OF    THE  EXPLORER.     By  Ripley  Hitchcock. 

D.   APPLETON   AND    COMPANY,   NEW   YORK. 


